writing

dark | side | thursday | fifty

Image | | andy townend

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge?  Are you open to sharing your dark side?   Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

AJT_6650-EditOr, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so,  join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

dark | side | thursday | fifty

He sat bolt upright.

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dark | side | thursday | fortynine

Image | | andy townend

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge?  Are you open to sharing your dark side?   Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

AJT_6650-EditOr, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so,  join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

dark | side | thursday | fortynine

Walking with a purposeful stride, he did not turn back, did not see the pillar of smoke towering over the breaking waves.

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dark | side | thursday | fortyeight

Image | | andy townend

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge?  Are you open to sharing your dark side?   Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

AJT_6650-EditOr, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so,  join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

dark | side | thursday | fortyeight

He tipped the glass and took its contents in one fierce swallow.

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dark | side | thursday | fortyseven

Image | | andy townend

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge?  Are you open to sharing your dark side?   Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

AJT_6650-EditOr, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so,  join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

dark | side | thursday | fortyseven

It would be over soon.

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dark | side | thursday | fortysix

Image | | andy townend

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge?  Are you open to sharing your dark side?   Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

AJT_6650-EditOr, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so,  join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

dark | side | thursday | forty-six

The noise of cold often recirculated air was all he could hear.

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poetry | 101 | rehab | deliberation

Image | | andy townend

tune in, freak out, get beaten
― hunter s thompson, fear and loathing in las vegas

de based
de braded
de cayed

de filed
de funct
de graded

de humanised
de hydrated
de jected

de marcated
de meaned
de natured

de railed
de ranged
de sired

re viled

de sert in Paradise, NV
no wheels
pimped wheels
spinning wheels
big wheel(s)?

deliberation

My prompt for this week’s Poetry 101 Rehab is DELIBERATION and it was inspired by a walk below the strip in Las Vegas on a hot spring afternoon as I prepared to leave.

You can find our more about my trip on the strip here.

What are your DELIBERATION(S)?

You can link to your post in response to today’s prompt by leaving a comment on my post and / or by clicking on the poetry | 101 | badge below and leaving a link.

And you can also tag your post with Poetry 101 Rehab so that it shows up in the WordPress Reader.

Please feel free to copy and paste the badge across to your own post and your own site 🙂

2015_06_19_09504

More information can be found on my poetry | 101 | rehab page.

Blending the right ingredients

Image | | andy townend

I am not anonymous.

What you see here is the real deal. Me. For better, or for worse.

I chose a long time ago to write here under my own name. I respect the rights of those who choose to write under a pseudonym. It’s a time honoured writing device.

Here on WordPress, in this vibrant and supportive community, I’ve learned a lot about writing, social interaction, what works and what doesn’t. For the most part it’s been a great experience.

This week I’m mixing two worlds, my world of writing, poetry and photography, and my working world.
Continue reading →

dark | side | thursday | fortyfive

Aside | | andy townend

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge?  Are you open to sharing your dark side?   Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

AJT_6650-EditOr, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so,  join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

dark | side | thursday | fortyfive

…he heard her screaming and screaming her voice distorted slithering across the precipice of madness he could not imagine what she thought was happening or how she perceived the extent of his feelings for her or how he thought it might end or where it would lead his mind was an incoherent mess the thought slipped off the edge the cold razor that sliced the air between us and him and me and her and all of you and the darkness that always sits inside us as we work and play make love plan and fail try again and pick ourselves up and fall down deep into the pit from which freezing fingers grasp but can not reach and still his mind could not cope with the sound the terrible searing sense of loss that he knew would follow and all the while the pain that he knew that she was feeling could surely not be even remotely comparable to the selfish and frankly quite pointless grief he now felt for what had never been and had in reality only been and even then for a brief moment a snapshot a glimpse of another world beyond his a world he did not and could not and never would understand however hard he might have tried or ever might try and yes he had tried so hard to understand and speak the language and to accommodate and make compromises and yes he had made mistakes and yes now he knew that it was pointless and it had always been pointless and he could no more save her from the flames than he could now wake from this long cold dark night full of slivers of light bitter whining whispered words which always ended as he was locked in a nightmare filled with flames and smoke and screams and regret and pain and stone cold fingers inscribing sentences on shivering shoulders and so many more feelings he could not or dare not name not to himself nor to anyone else in fact certainly not to himself because he knew inside there was no answer unless he dared to open the box and turn the key and so again he pressed his fingers into his ears to drown out the screams and words endless words to make them go away he thought of the pigeon sitting on the lamp post and the wind in the trees and the cold white light over the distant hills the spires and towers the shifting petals of opaque green glass the outstretched waving hand the fake plastic premise the red glow of candles and the warmth that sense of home coming that once he had before the darkness came again in relentless rows and rows of cold distant empty typed words and even then he could not believe that the end was not coming but had already passed and the future was now and he heard her as she screamed in pain as she had in ecstasy…

The portal to dark | side | thursday opened on the twenty first day of may in the year twenty hundred and fifteen and will remain open for fifty two weeks.

fortyfive | fiftytwo

changing seasons | v2 | three

Image | | andy townend

War is what happens when language fails
― Margaret Atwood

I had half a mind not to contribute to the challenge this month. No specific reason.

On my last trip through London, I was browsing the shelves of a bookstore that was offering discounts on a range of Penguin modern classics. One of the books I selected was Storm of Steel by Ernst Jünger. I have long had an interest in the first world war, initially inspired by reading various British poets and bibliographers, a visit with family members in search of a grave some ten years or more ago, and, more recently, by living in Belgium. A country that bears the scars of that futile conflict perhaps more than anywhere else. Scars that are perhaps deeper and less well healed than seem apparent at first sight.

Storm of Steel is written from the point of view of a German soldier in the trenches. The author makes no attempt to take sides, makes no particular political point, includes almost no contextual remarks and the narrative is at times almost claustrophobically restricted to the immediate surroundings of the protagonist. What appeals to me about the book is the opportunity to see some of the events that shaped our world from (for me at least) a fresh perspective.

The feeling conveyed by the book for me so far (I am only half way through because one of the other resolutions I didn’t make, in addition to reading more, was to get out and exercise more) is one of detachment and surreality. And, on top of that, there is a curious sense of equality between the soldiers entrenched on either side of the hell that is no mans land. They appear to have similar rules and abide by them. There are terrible scenes of carnage and brutality and yet, through (and despite) the horror, there seems to be a sense of fair play and straight forward behaviour. Even if the politics behind the war made, perhaps little sense, to the slaughtered millions, they at least appeared to know their enemy, understand their enemy.

Which brings me to the events of the last few days in Brussel.

How the seasons have changed in the last 100 years.

Our enemies are not in the opposite trench, badged and bearing arms under the flag of their country.

Our enemies now seem to move amongst us, one hand gloved as they wheel their death laden luggage trolley, unseen in plain site.

Their targets are not the uniformed soldiers across no mans land, men who knew what to expect (death mostly). Their targets are children, you and me waiting to board our flights, airport staff serving the needs of weary, frustrated travellers. Their targets are our peace of mind, our ability to live and move in freedom. Their rationale is alien to us, their means of attack incomprehensible, how can we understand the mind of persons who can walk into a checkout line and, with the press of a button, destroy themselves, innocent children, women and men, and our freedom?

One thing perhaps we can learn from the (not so) Great War, is that unleashing mind numbing retaliation in fury simply creates mud, pain, loss and despair.

As we mourn those who lost their lives this week, and all those who have lost their lives in similar circumstances over so many years of our generation, let us hold our blood lust in check, let us not lash out in fury.

Let us think, let us work together to find a way to deal with the root causes of the horror in our world. Let us not close our borders, our hearts and our minds. Let us continue to welcome those poorer than ourselves, those who carry a greater burden, those who have lost more than we can ever comprehend.

Now, more than ever, we need to stand tall, to show those who dare to intimidate us that our way is the way that will prevail.

United we stand.

Again.

for changing seasons | cardinal guzman | v2

*composite image created from a book cover shot using an iPhone 6S, and a screen shot of a typed page, both images previously published on my Instagram page*