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edwise@hotmail.co.uk
November 22

Sight Seeing

 Sight Seeing
 
“Red Sky at night shepherds delight,
Red sky in morning shepherds warning”
 

 
The titanic tectonic tension created by the Ionic and Carthaginian Plates was incomparable with all those forces that had proceeded. Not so deep below the surface of the island that straddled these two plates was the great force that had been building unto the day when the energy would be released upon this island and in doing so transform it’s future.
 
The lonely and sole settlement that stood on the slopes of the island was a small town with a population of some five thousand. This populace of some few thousands referred to their place of collective dwelling as Santa Louis; named after the partial mythical and partial legendary founder of the island. This long dead predecessor of the present inhabitants of the town was also the founder of the written text that was used and taught to every island member as a child since the death of the founder. The first inscriptions that were laid down in this beautiful language were indeed those of the prophecies, the same prophecies that the island was living through at this very time of the Earths movement. The town, slanting, was doing so as it was positioned on the mountain known as Monte de Ception, this name, another part of life that was introduced by the founder.
 
There was no track leading to the summit of the mountain, however there was a track that lead from the highest building of Santa Louis down to the lowest on the quay side. As the Mediterranean sun rose, these homes that stood lowest were the first to have their windows penetrated by that light that shone, but still cold on the tiled floors. On a typical morning it would not be long before these tiles would be awash with shoes making breakfast. Nevertheless this was not a typical day and the shoes were yet to be awakened. Moving up from the quay side, past the school and the recently opened hospital converted from a previous home, lay the entrance to the heart of the town, a plaza. Around the plaza were the different shops, where it was possible to buy all that is needed, food and furniture, clothing and carpets. There was one other building that stood in the plaza, already known as the building that stood highest of all buildings in the town. It was the first building which had been constructed in the town by the founder and one that shared his name, therefore the towns name; it was the church of Santa Louis.
 
A rise of ten marble steps climbed between the Plaza and the magnificent doors of the church, made from a century old oak tree that grew on the island, long even, before the birth of the founder. At the top of these steps there were ten marble statues like sentries, one for each step, which guarded the church. They were helped by other figures cut into the marble façade of the baroque church to protect it from evil. The angles and the nymphs and the creatures that were not real in this world all played their part in completing the look of the church's exterior. Amidst the marble was constructed a wrought iron balcony that looked to be supported by some of the strongest stone figures.
 
By this time the higher regions of the town were no longer being ignored by the sun and the inside of the church was being illuminated by the light punching holes through the walls spreading wide onto facades of frescos painted by an old master in the style of their time. One of the modern painters still lived in the roof of the church and he now stood on the balcony at the front of the church, not as a painter but as a monk. His shoes were always the first awake each day. Dressed in his black and white checked gown, tied around his waist by a belt made of three ropes and a brass buckle with his name ‘Hermas’ embossed in the rich text of the founder, his hands clung to the balcony. His face was veiled in the shadows of a hood; all that was visible was the tint of colour in his eyes that reflected the scene before him. What his eyes reflected was Monte de Ception, not the one that he had always seen before, this morning the mountain was stirring from its deep sleep and behind grew a red sky filling the horizon. This was the prophesised horizons of horizons that had been depicted by the writings of the founder.
 
A hand released the balcony and swept towards the cool metal of a finely crafted, many horned; trumpet that was part of the wrought iron balcony. As the hand grasped the end of the trumpet the lips of the hooded monk slowly parted and took a wide gulf of air and pulled it deep into the lungs of the man. Next they slowly protruded from the shadowy face and positioned each other within the mouthpiece of the trumpet and blew. The different horns caused a discordant harmony that accelerated first to the lofty heights of the skies then back down past the balcony and to the base of the steps and then it spread out through the plaza and wound its ways into the surrounding streets and down to the quay. As soon as the sound started it ceased. It was at this precise moment that the blurred eyes of an approximate five thousand people opened and stared at the nothing that they could see, for they were blind.
 
From these eyes the impulses were sent to the feet to awaken their shoes and venture uphill towards the highest building in the town of Santa Louis. Both of Hermas’ hands released their grips on the respective metal item and the monk quickly dashed down the stairs past a half finished fresco he had been working on. The artwork depicted a man, dressed like himself, with the words ‘Santa Louis’ embossed above him. Harmas continued down into the crypt. Within this crypt was kept the original prophecies of the founder and it was now time for the final one to be removed and read out to the townsfolk. Only going as far into the crypt that was needed to grasp the tassel of the old prophecy, the monk once more swept out a hand and grasped. Pulling on the tassel and once more running up the stairs to return to the balcony, the monk stood and gazed out at the crowd that had begun to assemble. The people of the town stood silently at the base of the steps where the sound that drew them there had first hit the face of the earth. As the crowd continued to gather it reminisced of the joyful and sorrowful times that had been spent in this most magical of places. The heart of the town was the church but the soul was certainly in the plaza.
 
As the sky grew an ever deeper red and the townsfolk continued to pour into the plaza Hermas stood and waited for all to arrive and when the slowest of the old men had reached up the slopes and arrived up from the quay, a second deep breath was taken by the monk and so he began his speech.
 
“Townsfolk, friends. I sounded the great trumpet today as the final prophecy is to be fulfilled.” In unison the town’s folk took a short intake of the hot air in the plaza. The blurry eyes looked up to where Harmas stood on the balcony and he continued. “Do not be troubled for I will remain here as the prophecies foretold, and together as a town we will endure the onslaught of the seeping red liquid that will come forth from on high and devour our bodies. This is the last day I will lay eyes upon you.” In unison the people of the town bowed their heads and recited the ancient verse proclaiming that they will remain in the plaza under the flag of their monk.
 
The day passed, the red sky grew and the sun played along its course around and over the island. Hermas came down from the balcony and entered into the crowd and spoke at length with many a friend. When the people became hungry and thirsty he collected the food sellers whose shops were allocated around the plaza and asked if each could pass food and drink out to the people, each agreed to this request and showed great willingness to do so. When all were fed and watered and when the talking had continued, Hermas walked off behind the church and looked up at the mountain. The liquid was close at hand and was moving quickly, he knew he may not wonder at this for too long and must go back and lead his people through. On re-entering the crowded plaza he began to inform the crowd that the liquid was but a few hundred meters away, he instructed the people to move down from the steps where the liquid would first reach the plaza. It was upon these steps that he positioned himself as the liquid became visible from within the plaza.
 
There were no screams, there were no cries. As the monk bowed his head and was engulfed by the mountains offspring a sound grew in each ear that built under pressure to an extent that it could be heard on the edges of the two great plates that were forming it. The red liquid enveloped the people of the town in its warmth for many a moment until it passed the bodies of them. As the bodies began to seemingly rise through the liquid and were laid down on the plaza they stared. Looking about in awe and wonder on the new land that lay about them their eyes cured of the blurriness wondered to the monk, their shoes began to follow. The first of the shoes to clamber up the steps of the church were a very small black pair that was decorated with lovingly tied red bows. On the tenth step the shoes were lifted high into the air and the eyes that belonged to the shoes gazed upon a blurry eyed face of a man dressed in his black and white checked gown that was tied around his waist by a belt made of three ropes and a brass buckle with his name ‘Hermas’ embossed in the rich text of the founder, his hands clung to the little girl in his arms.
 
“Thank you for your kindness and great courage, sir for I am able to look over the town and down to the sea and up to the sky.”
 
“Indeed, the sky. Tell me kind young girl, what does this sky look like?”
 
The small voice said, “It…..is holding a big glowing disc, too bright to look at, but it is going to hide behind the church. It is getting dark, almost night time. And from this disc the colour spreading out is the same colour as the bows on my shoes.”
 
“Ahhh, a fiery red?”
 
“Yes.”
 
In unison the crowd erupted into applause.
 
By Ed Lawless
 

Untitled With Infiguratively

The first that anyone realised that this had occurred it was, as it always is, too late. With Front having to reach the only remaining water reader, there was only two things that permitted his retrieval of that which was so vital to the circumstances. As everybody used to say ‘all I can hear is the fun shots’ but since that great and lovable time had passed people had decided to move on from the scary background. What bothered them was the simple things, there was always a hidden fear of the black one known as the Missiby but this word had become synonymous with evil and all other wrong doings but this was much more than a object or that of sort as Front had the vision of the metamorphosis of the final change of Missiby into the known one. This is what the religious prophecies had said would not happen but the political intentions were too strong for front to defend and re-embark on this the first of many adventures. With the ruling it was impossible to carry your control without the reflection showing the truth to those that were able to read water. Although he was well known he, Front, was not an idol of anyone apart from Missiby. The very root of all evil idolised the very thing that people wanted to remove the root of evil. Was this one that should have been discarded into the mists of time or was this the one that would become through to the end and rejoin the creator of both Front and Missiby, as they were created by the second of two creators the first created all, including the second creator, and then the second creator came to power and made the two that would seem to forever battle the world against each other. Although there was no actual beginning or end to the creativity of either of the creators there was a start of the good and of the evil with out the knowledge of the rest of everything knowing. There was too much pride between the two that had come together throughout the final inconclusive action between these powers and there would be no end even to the finish as nothing will ever become over. There was nothing that made sense between everything and Front and Missiby. Possibly there was no need for it or maybe the first creator had created it so. And so there was no need of knowledge of any of what could claim there claim to the world.
            As that that has already become yet to mention there was of now nothing that any of the previous movements of forces that would compare to what was going to unfold before the people that had to mention to each other the series of the unfortunations between the time difference of months and the years that were separated. Some thought that Front would never be critical enough to be used to relate to nothing of the other of many. All that was known for certain was the past and without that there would yet be middle to story that ends but never finishes. The insecurity of the world was only shown to the water readers and Missiby and Front. Everyone else was leaning on them with force to ensure a good blow with out any of the predictions. The second creator had a soul that would be carried through the death of his two uniformly different sons and this was the one thing that wondered towards the backwards movement but, without there was no crying that would have the honour to be unable to lift high the lofty. The future was what everything was concentrated upon with the waterous virtue there was now need for. All that were concerned were notified through the results of the futuristically water readers. These were few and far between. The between is in years, as there could only be one at every part of the world without of shape. They don’t know the premium on the largest markettion. With out the dutiful man with that there was know habitat. Commercialisation was always there were no keeping attitude I don’t want a judge was his response. The back and fifth motion was one that no one could see the stoppage of it. Not even the creators but it occurred, and as has been said, it was first realised when it was, as it always is, too late.

By Ed Lawless

November 18

Domination Nation

World globalisation
Minorities all down and glum
Domination of a nation
The image of the beef burger bun.
 
CHORUS
Were goanna have to fly, fly,
Fly to the moon.
Were goanna have to live, live,
Live in the sea.
Were goanna have to lock ourselves
In little bubbles and float away for eternity.
 
Chinese with an American accent.
Where’s there left to run?
How’ll this manifestation ever relent?
It’ll stamp out the fun.
 
CHORUS
 
Himalayan mountains of Tibet
Or the heat of the savannah
Here we could run from the roulette.
Jungles and all their banana.
 
CHORUS
 
Who forgot to pay the rent?
Green of the good old days,
Perhaps an act of parliament.
We had to change our ways.
 
By Ed Lawless
November 13

Relationshapes

I’m dizzy and spinning,
No end or beginning.
Like wheels turning round,
With the curves of a pound.
 
For corners and sides,
As tall as there wide.
They are taken for granted,
Boxes stacked and carted.
 
Only use is for pyramids,
No tops or lids.
The strongest of them all,
Always standing tall.
 
These are the shapes,
Of my relationships.
 
By Ed Lawless
November 04

Breaking Out

I’m gona rock this industry,
Everyone will follow me.
Advancing and taking the brunt,
Leading from the front.
 
Taking on the giants,
Standing in defiance.
An unstoppable machine,
We must be seen.
 
It’s the rules we will overthrow,
Breaching the walls blow by blow.
Now you all join and band with me,
We will pull down their effigy.
 
Taking on the giants,
Standing in defiance.
An unstoppable machine,
We must be seen.
 
To change music for the better,
Our new world will stand forever.
Making its own history,
Together, you and me.
 
By Ed Lawless
November 03

Night Life

I go out hunting in the shadows of the sun to find chronomentrophobia waiting in the porch and a guiding hand. Inside we go with our tune in mouth.
 
I can kick back on the bed and become my insomniac for the night
From years of experience I began and I learnt and I now know not to fight
He is the only one who blows over my life a blocking glorious light
The tune still going in our mouths we stay silent with all our might
 
The machine on my lap to forget and replay the times of the sun
And here is the crux of the matter it allows me to run
From the pains pre-hunt where I am kept caged without fun
Between you and me, both then and now my hand holds the gun
 
The mind’s hidden secrets are now revealed at this time
When it is possible to step out from the claustrophobic line
Sharing, it is no longer the case that my mind is mine
It is time I tell you what we do at this time when we need to dine
 
Porridge is the only meal to eat when at a function like this
The best part of day when the sun is down and something I sorely miss
I would jump if this was at the end of the never-ending hole’s abyss
I seal the end of the night when I give myself’s second half a French kiss
 
Later I fall into the land of thought where I loose sight of life until I pick up my spear again with a tune in mouth.
 
By Ed Lawless