Light Beams

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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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Dark and Light

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amreading, amwriting, dark, despair, Flash Poesy, hope, light, poetry, writerscommunity

Dark and Light

The morning was dark as night

the evening bright, as the moon,

stars, and constellations

illuminated my path

There is light among the darkness

and shadows of darkness in light

The magic is to find the beam of hope

whether it’s daytime or night.

©S.E.Sanders 2020

Light and Dark, flash poesy for thought

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amreading, amwriting, awareness, black, blind, collective consciousness, collective memory, confinement, dark, darkness, deaf, dystopia, enlightenment, eye contact, freedom of speech, grey, ignorance, light, mute, perception, prison, reality, transfer of thought, utopia, walls, white, writingcommunity

It was a time of ignorance

and a time of enlightenment

an era of awareness

and one of darkness

The enlightened sought

the light in the heavens and beyond

the ignorant worked in darkness

setting light to the treasures of the enlightened,

all buildings, books, works of art and heritage

were demolished under the axes of the demons of darkness

yet, everything remained in the collective memory of the Light-workers

The dark demons built high walls around the prisons

where the Light-workers were confined

Speaking was forbidden, even looking eye to eye

The prisoners who broke the law

had their tongues cut and eyes removed

The blinded and muted Light-workers

developed a communication skill

of transferring thoughts without speaking or eye-contact

Waves of thoughts travelled in the air

while the dark demons carried out their atrocities unaware

The frequencies of thoughts became so high and powerful,

deafening the dark demons who

failed to complete their mission of destruction,

as the wavelength of thoughts

damaged their sensory systems

Unable to move or act, they lay still on the ground

The Light-workers fed their minds with ideas and

knowledge  about the planet and the universe,

theories of law and justice for all,

science, art, history, philosophy, and

awareness of nature and the balance of creation

Dark-workers awoke with the beam of enlightenment

in their eyes.

They learned to communicate without speaking,

seeing beyond the perceived and feeling without using their senses.

Dark-workers became Light-workers

moving humanity into a new dimension

of enlightenment.

Still, some Dark-workers remained,

in the periphery of humanity,

scheming plans to carry out their dark intentions,

to make a revolution to change the world.

Light-workers ambushed them and built high walls around their towns

so that they would stay confined within their own surroundings

unable to infect their backward ideas into the enlightened zone.

The angels in the heavens watched the humans in dismay,

“When will they learn?” they asked their Leader, the wisest of All.

“Only when they discover grey, against the black and white.

It will take time, but I have hopes for my children.”

My Shadow and Me

Tags

copy, eternity, figure, form, identity, intangible, light, outline, perception, reflection, shade, shadow, Shadowland, silhouette, sun, tangible, timing

media.giphy.com/media/l3q2LN4GoToXK8xbi/giphy.gif

 

I like walking with my shadow ahead of me

She is taller than me, slimmer than me

Her neck is more slender, she has no face, just a silhouette

I like walking with my shadow in front of me

Her graceful figure accompanies me during my stroll by the sea

I enjoy her company

I hadn’t seen her for a while, she is so full of life.

I must have caught the sun behind me at the right time

Is she me or is she a reflection of me?

If the sun wasn’t at a certain angle,

I would have missed her

She disappears in the shades,

then reappears when I’m back under the sun.

I can see her long legs,

even her feet below the Capri pants she’s wearing.

 

Will she be here tomorrow, or will she vanish forever?

I must catch her at the right time or I’ll never see her again.

Where do shadows go when the sun moves?

Do they travel to Shadowland?

If she’s a part of me, do I go, as well?

Will I see her tomorrow?

Will I be here tomorrow?

Or will I also disappear into the Land of the Shadows?

 

There are many other shadows

They reflect the forms they copy and repeat

They have no faces, just elongated outlines

that appear temporarily.

I’d like to walk again with my shadow before me

My shadow and I are the same

The Red Room

Tags

boudoir, candelabra, castle, confinement, ghost, gravity, isolation, light, love, the red room

 

In my self-imposed solitary confinement at the castle,

I roam the many halls and corridors

and stop by the Red Room

Do I dare enter her chambers for the first time

ever since she left?

Autumn has arrived though it doesn’t feel so,

the night is tender and tempting.

I unlock the door,

throw open the windows

and light the tapers on the candelabra

scattered around her boudoir.

 

Crimson velvet drapes sway in the fresh breeze,

the floral fragrance of her perfume still lingers in the air,

the candles flicker and cast their light

upon the guild-framed paintings on the red walls.

Portraits come to life,

their gazes follow me,

the lips curl into a smile, or a sneer,

they talk without speaking,

an organ plays in the background,

I pause by her picture, allured by her beauty,

She walks out of the frame and takes my hand,

Into the eternal night, she says,

her eyes are magnets that pull me in like gravity.

This is the love I have been yearning for,

I’m a moth around her glow

I know I will burn, yet I ache for her radiance.

She becomes the light,

I burn and feel no pain,

I rise and become a ghost, a ghost of myself.

 

We leave the Red Room and venture into the darkness,

An owl sings a song, night birds join the chorus,

they chant a tune in a strange language,

I do not know the melody, but I know the words,

Slave to the light, I drift in the air,

and follow her

Love and gravity are conflicting,

yet they are the same.