ICARUS

Showcasing the incredible art of Omand Original I have repurposed some 'old words'

The morning light, dappled by closed eyes, spoke of another day. Eyelids cracked open to allow the dreams of night to fly away into the cloudy air, leaving us sad and unfulfilled.  Why do we dream? Why is there never an end we can understand?

As the world wakes all those dream-ends gather like flocks of birds and fly to the sun to be burnt to extinction, while we cry tears for those lost moments of understanding.

The Smile

Leaves fell from the trees, glistening silver in the last basking of moonlight, nobody could understand why they were silver or why the trees were black; the world had turned monochrome........and silent.



The Smile that made the sun shine and the moon glow was gone and the world wept.

All the colours faded till there was only grey. The sun would not shine and the moon refused to glow without the Smile to greet them and so the world faded into blackness and withered.



Far away a child searched for the Smile but could only find a fragment deep in its memory. The fragment was tattered and torn with just a hint of the Smile showing. The child stared hard at the memory, making it grow until it was whole again.



Around the child the colour had returned to the world. As the child spoke to others and made them remember, colours flooded the world as it was restored from grey, trees grew and blossomed, the sky was blue and the grass was green, for the Smile was remembered.



A lesson learned, the world made a pact to never forget the Smile, lest the blackness should return.

Consigning the Past to the Future

The past is a dangerous place, full of memories. Memories we treasure for how we remember them, but most of the virulent memories are the bad memories, which take charge of you, rule your present and prevent your future.

We all believe we can remember all the good times, however, it is the bad memories that persist. The memories that use grief, rage, anger, shame or fear to ensure you do remember, so few use affection to remain in your head.

The past controls your future when it marches all the bad stuff into view to make you achieve the safe solution. Nothing can ever be achieved if you allow that to happen.

It is not easy but it can be made to happen, only you can make it happen by ignoring the past, good or bad, and start creating the future.

From the Past - unpublished until now

Dawn

17 January 2013

23:16

The morning light, dappled by closed eyes, spoke of another day. Eyelids cracked open to allow the dreams of night to fly away into the cloudy air, leaving us sad and unfulfilled.  Why do we dream? Why is there never an end we can understand?

As the world wakes all those dream-ends gather like flocks of birds and fly to the sun to be burnt to extinction, while we cry tears for those lost moments of understanding.

This is me, not you

I am me Not you or your friends Nor your Mom I am me Accept that and we agree Ignore that and we fight I am me I will be me until I die I will never be what you want I am me Just me Nothing else

Frozen??

Based on "The Snow Queen" by Hans Christian Anderson…...who must be spinning like a power drill at this quite appalling waste of pixels. The story bears little resemblance to its heritage save for a frigid (or is that gelid?) Queen.
Disney must have been having a really bad day when this was proposed. We have re-imagined characters from other recent animations...Eddie Murphy’s Donkey from Shrek turns up with a hatrack and fur coat as the cute Reindeer….Mr Stay Puft returns as a Transformer-like Snow Mega Troll (with attitude and frosty halitosis)...the Minions from Despicable me turn up in smart green coats with a sort of concrete complexion. Then we have the "new" characters, just there for the laughs (?) ...the totally creepy Scandinavian Store owner, who seems to enjoy mass mixed 'family saunas….the weird mentally challenged fall-apart comedy snowman (who seems to be played by Goofy) and a Dick Dastardly type of villain. Have these story writers got zero imagination or do they not care to look after their pixels?
Add in a story line that includes parental death, sibling rivalry, deceit and a complete disregard for Health and Safety Risk Assessments (particularly when climbing) then you begin to understand the complete awfulness of this film.
The ending is pure kitsch with the whole thing put right by "LOVE" Awwww…. Then the dumbass Queen, who has just released her Queendom from eternal winter goes and creates a freakin' ice rink in the city!!!
Dumb, disastrous, diabolical.

Rating 
1/10

Rot

A black shadow sits before me Gutteral growls reach my ears Fine pointed teeth drip menace Warm breath washes my face But it sits And waits
I move The shadow moves I run The shadow runs I feel the breath of redemption Let those teeth release me Forgive my sins So I may sleep
There is no sleep For tainted souls An endless path just followed To places we should forget No joy, no smiles A mire of endless misery
Weep not for me Weep only for those left To rot in foreign fields To never be returned Mourned but never given rites Alone they lie forever
The black dogs howl and bark At every rising sun Reminding all of horrors done Never ceasing Never silent Always present Always judging

The Artist

The electric screen it shimmers and it sparkles
as she sits and makes the moves
that make the art begin,
pushing pixels around a palette
making them behave.
Marching, dancing into things
we all believe.
Creation is an art.
Understanding art
is simple,
just enjoy.

Gail Says ....

As she walks down the hallway 
shutting each door she passes

Because it's time

Time to lock away the past.
Walk away from the bad memories,
step into the future

Face it unbowed, unflinching,
prepared to fight
for the right to smile
every day.

A bunch of keys
tossed into the surf
losing the past forever.
Each footprint erased 
by the tide,
inviting a journey 
into the uncharted.


thanks to @sonnybees for the inspiration

Dreams

Simple task ...  

Took 3hrs ...  

Totally exhausted ...  

So much pain ...  

Not worth it ....  

Will try to sleep ...  

Wait for the dreams again .. 

The dream continues ..  

Yellow T Shirt dress ..  

Grubby ...  

2 small blood splashes ..  

Logo scrubbed out with marker pen ..  

Dirty chestnut hair 

Red trainers ...  

Skinny and scared ...  

Sobbing ...  

Shaking ...  

Glued to the spot ..  

Hold her gently ..  

Treat her like glass ..  

Fragile. 

Who was the blonde?..  

Bobbed hair ...  

Designer pink dress ..  

Russian ? ..  

Eastern European? ..  

Sits on a desk ..  

Smokes ...  

Smiles .. 

The girl in the yellow dress returns ...  

Who is she?..  

What does she want? ...  

What does she mean? ...  

Dirty, sobbing, scared ...  

Why? ... 

The black marker scribble ..  

Bullet burn ..  

Blood splash from the wound ..  

Sliced neck ..  

Red trainers I bought her? ..  

Memory .. 

The yellow dress ..  

Haunts me ..  

A child ..  

A future never realised ..  

Conceived but not born ..  

Died in her mother's womb ..  

A daughter .. 

Age does not kill you ..  

Nor disease ..  

Memories have that honour ..  

Seeping through you ..  

A toxic virus ..  

A gateway to hell .. 

Beauty's End

Something is chewing at my feet ..

Blood soaks the rug as it takes nourishment.

My life will be just a stain.

A stain in the shape of a fallen man,

a starfish, a galaxy...

We all fall to the stars, heroes in our own worlds,

and hear the songs the quasars sing....

While our mortal remains

Lay like fallen, bloody Tree Stars,

Rotting back to earth

This is a collaborative piece inspired by @ChicagoLiterati asking "Tweet us your spookiest #sixwordhorrorstory"

The words are by @Wolfpaw36  & @voimaoy

Illustration courtesy of gail_mi

Sorrow

Have you seen the mourning Light,

When moon shadows fall around?

Light will sit, rocking, weeping

For another day is lost.

Long suffering

Bearing despair,

Each night,

Every night

For evermore.

For a friend

Shadow

Once again the incredible art of @OmandOriginal provides inspiration for this old Wolf

I looked in a mirror,

All I could see

Was something that

I used to be …

Once upon a distant past,

Half in shadow.

Art by @OmandOriginal 

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