Rock Signs

simonhlilly

Preseli Meditations (Rock Signs)

Eye
Is a palindrome,
As is
Sees.
Voices distant
Speak in tongues
From cracks in rock
Split open by light.

Split open
By light
A heaven swing
Through star roads.
A cloud hymn
And the sing of insects.

The sing of insects
Deep in winter.
Sunlight clicks
Its fingers.
One door opens.
Another closes.

Another closes
Creeps seeps
Through the
Butter of time,
The honey of space.
Dressed in bones
They come
Rolling down
With news
From heaven.

From heaven
Fingers prise
The smallest chink.
An eye blinks
The mirror
Cracked becomes
A door.
Backwards the
Paths lead
Backwards to
The beginning.

2016/06/img_2085.jpg

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If you hear a voice within you …

painted pole (11 January 2015)

painted pole (11 January 2015)

There are times – yes, you know them, you have them, too – when the world clicks into a new position and nothing can ever be quite the same again. Or maybe it isn’t the world that goes ‘click’. Maybe it’s something that happens in the mind, as a response to or a consequence of one’s experiences. Okay, I need to be specific.

For more than three years I have been professing that I’m writing a novel. It’s not the first I’ve attempted – my personal history is littered with the wreckage of those failed projects. My previous major writing effort – ‘clinically obese’ might be an appropriate diagnosis – boasted double the planned word-count, and it was only halfway through when eventually abandoned.

In recent days I’ve been looking back over the text which purports to be the stuff of the ‘new’ novel (working title: You Wouldn’t Dare). The opening scene I wrote on ‘day one’ is delicious, delectable. I’m really keen to continue. But aside from a few promising scenes, very little of the rest of it will find itself in the final draft.

So what’s clicked? what’s shifted? It’s something I’m still fathoming. In the meantime Vincent van Gogh’s advice is pertinent:

“If you hear a voice within you saying, ‘You are not a painter,’ then by all means paint … and that voice will be silenced.”

 

 

 

Dry-Humping Parnassus Featured At Discover

It was the old-school typewriter that made me look. It was the headline that made me look twice.

Dry-Humping Parnassus

Dry-Humping Parnassus is today’s featured poetry blog at Discover, “A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.” Thanks to Discover Editor and Chief Semicolon Advocate Michelle W. for featuring my stuff, and especially to all of you humans out there for reading, following and supporting it. With any luck, the Muse will let me go outside and play now.

Robin Lucas publishes poems, stories, and satire. He began writing at 22, mostly by accident: as he states in his bio, he had a typewriter, plenty of time due to unemployment, and a sudden urge to express his festering self-indulgence. He’s based in Southern California.

via Dry-Humping Parnassus — Discover

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Go Down the Rabbit Hole: A Writer’s Manifesto

Alice in Wonderland: falling cards

Alice in Wonderland: falling cards

“You are the work. The work is you: both an articulation of the self and a possibility for self-reflection. “

Writing for Digital Media

1. You are the work. The work is you: both an articulation of the self and a possibility for self-reflection. Be honest in creation: allow yourself to bleed into the work, but also allow it to work on you. Your work can show you things: illuminate and clarify your own thoughts, motivations, actions. If you do it right, you will find the work changing you, too.

2. Thinking is process. Laying on the floor. Sitting on park benches. Getting lost on purpose. These are all working. Learn the difference between mindless distraction and mindful wandering.

3. Go down the rabbit hole. Sometimes the work isn’t about what you think it is. Allow yourself to get lost down alleyways, to follow a train of thought around a corner. Don’t feel you need to reign yourself in. Too much focus squeezes all the possibility for revelation out of the work.

4. Fear…

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Gingko gold

gingko, Lambton Quay (05 June 2015)

gingko, Lambton Quay (05 June 2015)

After a simple lunch of donburi chicken from Wasabi Sushi in the James Cook Arcade, I returned to Lambton Quay and found myself standing under a canopy of gingko gold.

The photograph below – taken a little further down the street – is exactly thirteen months old. Click on it for a look at the piece I posted on 08 May 2014.

autumn reflection (05 May 2014)

autumn reflection (05 May 2014)