Light Beams

Tags

amreading, amwriting, art, BosphorusReview of Books, children, colours, Flash Fiction, flowers, grandchildren, hospital, illness, images, light, light beams, loneliness, memories, muteness, nursing home, old age, paintings, paralysis, publication, scents, writerscommunity, yearning

My flash fiction story, Light Beams , is in the May Issue of The Bosphorus Review of Books. Many thanks to the Editor-in-Chief, Luke Frostic.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Thanks for reading! 🙂

https://bosphorusreview.com/light-beams

“Our cover this month is by our returning artist Dj Nio – Mammaliturki. find more of his work here https://www.djnio.net and listen to his latest music here https://soundcloud.com/nio_zeroplastica or here https://open.spotify.com/artist/0nKgLLvnDxOqzmxmBLrAl6…“

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A Festival of Flash 8 – Janis Freegard, Rob Walton, Iona Winter, Gloria Garfunkel & Şebnem E. Sanders

Tags

A Festival of Flash, a kaleidoscope of colours, amreading, amwriting, colours, COVID, Flash Fiction, love, Love in the Time of Covid, Micro Fiction, pandemic, Sailing, social-distancing, writerscommunity

I have a micro-fiction story on this page, along with some great writers. Enjoy! 😍 Many thanks to the editors Michelle Elvy and
Witi Ihimaera.

Love in the Time of COVID

You’ll never see unless you look by Janis Freegard

Your head sinks into the pillow, you pass through the tunnel where sometimes, briefly, voices speak words that don’t quite make sense, where there are shapes and patterns you only ever see in this state, then you’re through to the other world, the sleep world.

It’s different here. Life happens in fragments. Time means nothing. A friend can become a cat and then your cousin. You see someone you know but they are wearing a stranger’s face. Electrical appliances will not work. The dead were never dead.

Try to wake up inside this world. This way you can influence events. Flying is a good option for you. It may take a few tries. To start with, you might be hovering just above the ground, worrying about crashing down. Don’t. Don’t think about that. Concentrate on levitating above rooftops and trees. Get…

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Sleep

Tags

altered-consciousness, colours, dreaming, flowers, fruits, grapes, new-dimension, pomegranate, reality, sleep

“Dreaming of Pomegranates” (1912)_by Felice Casorati, Italy

 

 

She sleeps on the grass

with a pomegranate in her hand

Drifting into the world of altered consciousness

she dreams of other fruit,

apples, apricots, peaches, oranges and tangerines

cherries, berries, plums, grapes and melons

that give the world the names of colours,

like the bed of wild flowers upon which she lies.

Her mind and body at peace,

nearly all her voluntary activities ceased.

A tranquil expression spreads upon her face,

she travels into another world

where the rules and dimensions are different.

Her eyelids flutter,

her lips curl into a smile,

she takes her lover’s hand

as they fly towards the green hills,

racing with feathered clouds

and the birds in the sky.

Her reality becomes the dream,

unaware which realm she belongs to.

When she awakes to birdsong,

her eyes drift to the bunches of purple grapes

hanging down from the vine above her.

The only remainder from the dream,

the pomegranate her lost lover gave to her,

from the orchards on the terraced hills.

She blinks,

presses the pomegranate to her heart,

closes her eyes,

and slips back into the dream.

 

 

 

Bewitched

Tags

artist's creation, beauty, colours, flaming locks, gold dress, illusion, infatuation, moon, painting, real, sea-green eyes, silver moonliight, spring equinox, Trompe l'œil

It was her sea-green eyes
that melted his heart
at first, but then
the strawberry lips,
curled into a smile,
the flaming locks
cascading down
her golden frock

On the night of the spring equinox
he knew he was possessed,
as shafts of silver moonlight
danced upon her face and dress,
her eyes beamed and a slender ivory-skinned arm
reached for his hand-
he blinked,
blaming the wayward breeze and the moon
that played tricks on his eyes

He wished she were here,
wished he could find her,
the maiden who posed
for the artist whose
lines and colours made her real.

Photo details: I couldn’t find a painting that represents the character in the poem. So, I found a photo of the lovely Isolda Dychauk as Lucrezia Borgia and photoshopped it. 🙂

Rainbow of Life

Tags

air, ambiguity, awareness, bliss, colourless, colours, dreams, earth, elements, feelings, fire, Gaia, heart, life, love, melancholia, moods, mystery, nature, passion, rainbow, shades, sorrow, water

Kaleidoscope of Colours

Tags

bombs, child, colours, dreams, explosions, protection, war

Many thanks to the Drabble for publishing my drabble. 🙂

By Sebnem Sanders

He could hear the blasts from far away. It happened every day and night. Heavy eyelids lured him into a dream. Balloons, kites and the pretty prints his mother wore. She stroked his hair, saying, “Always take care of your baby sister.” He nodded, holding onto her sleeve. He was five, his sister two.

Loud noises tore him from the kaleidoscope. His sister wailed as the walls shook and crumbled down. In the foggy air, he dashed to her crib and picked her up. He squatted in a corner and covered her head with his hands.

    
Bio: Sebnem E. Sanders is a native of Istanbul, Turkey, living currently on the Eastern shores of the Southern Aegean where she dreams and writes Flash Fiction and poetry, as well as longer works of fiction. Her stories have appeared on the Authonomy Blog, The Drabble, and Sick…

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Spectrum of Colours

Tags

colours, darkness, dreamers, dreams, life and death, nemesis, reality

 

My eyelids flutter

not wanting to leave

the pastel coloured dreams,

and to stay in that moment of tranquillity,

instead of the harsh solid colours of reality,

shades of darkness, splashed with violent blood-red,

dark purples of sorrow and pain, flooded with tears.

What happened to the golden sun,

the blue sky of hope?

Why is everything grey,

has the purity of white disappeared completely?

What did we do to mankind,

where did the dreamers go,

did we exhaust their dreams?

 

The culprits lurk in the shadows,

they come in shades of gloom

and in different shapes and minds.

They will not rest

until they have destroyed every one of us,

but the Planet will remain and

there will be new life

with a fresh spectrum of colours

after death.