Thursday, March 10, 2011

Another Day, Another Poem

This one's actually going to get published, supposedly. I think it's a lot more polished than Phoenix Bloom, but it doesn't have the same sort of high moments the other poem does. Anyway, here you go:




Pause Painting
JS Harlow

When my mom was not yet full
With me my grandma had a painting
Of her made, so everyone she knew
Would know that she'd had a daughter
Of beauty. I never saw it. A psychic
Came to my grandma's house
On its big hill and saw that painting
In the foyer. And she said, "That woman
Right there that I see is pregnant with a
Little boy." And maybe she had known
Somehow, but I doubt it.
I think there was a power there cause, you see, because
The next thing she said was talking about me.

"He'll be tall," she said, and I am, and more--
"He'll be a man who sees through windows
With great big moon eyes and a hitch in
His step.
"He'll be a fool," she said--I am, "and he'll
Start in on those fixes on his walks
And never stop till he's fixed himself.

"He'll have beef jerky muscles in his withered arms
And tracks running up and down his thighs. He'll
Run up and down them night and day and listen, too."
My grandma said no thing to her. You don't entertain
A guest and then let her out. They had a shot of whiskey
Each with the other of them and my grandma was listening
The while. "He'll find a lady," the psychic said. "Crash right
In to her. Left. He'll nearly shake her teeth out
And he'll be tall and a damned sight more handsome than
Any man ought to be. And he'll smile and she'll be butter in his hands.

"There'll be a little girl," she said--and there was, "and all that time
He'll be running up and down those tracks and listening, listen.
And that little girl, I don't know what she'll be,
And I don't know the lady but you better watch out
For that little boy cause, because, he'll be
Just like you." My grandma let the psychic out
And put a mirror up in the foyer the very next day.
It stayed there till I was five years old
And in it I'd see black welshes out the window, baaing
On the hill, and, no matter how many times I tried,
I could never hear the damn things.


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Look forward to the next installment of Silver and Gold next Thursday!

Friday, March 4, 2011

Silver and Gold, Chapter 1, Pt. 3: Trapped Matron

See above. Hope you guys enjoy!

Silver and Gold Chapter 1, Pt. 3: Trapped Matron
"You violent, stubborn child."
Things were black for a second after Reah opened her eyes. Her head was swimming. What had happened? Her vision cleared. Reah was in the infirmary, apparently. She didn't know anywhere else in the world with a ceiling made of blackened glass.
The Convent of the Sisters of the Frozen Blood was a behemoth: a unified mass of brick and tinted glass rising above the squat, sod slope-roofed homes and stores in the village below. In opposition to the manor of the fulke estates on the hill directly across from it and the cemetary hill at the far eastern edge of town. It had originally been composed of separate buildings, each with their own purpose. Those buildings had grown together over the millenia that the Convent had existed, however, and, like barnacles heaped by tides on rocks, it was now impossible to tell the parts from the mass.
The convent had been built as a prison, originally: a place where The King could store women of the noble chaste who had stood against him in his conquest of the nations which would become the Gehennan empire. He turned these ladies of nobility to vampirism by his own hand—a gift he otherwise deigned to give only to his four chosen—and bound them to eternal confinement in the Convent's walls. The King was nothing if not cruel in his justice: those first dozen Sisters of the Frozen Blood had had ample opportunity over the three millenia since their turning to dwell on their mistakes.
Over the years, however, the purpose of the Sisters' prison had changed. The life of a Highblood vampire was not an easy one. Many a Gehennan noblewoman turned by one of The King’s four chosen overlords--his Hands--or by the products of their turnings, the Highblood lords of Gehenna, had chosen a life of contemplation over that of death and intrigue in the halls of The King’s great capital, Gaterau. As the population of the Convent of the Sisters of the Frozen Blood had swollen, the buildings on the promontory just west of Fulkton Gardens had grown to suit their population’s needs.
The Orphan Annex was one of the newer additions to the convent. Housing at any one time one hundred or more orphans of mixed ages and genders taken from across the nation of Gehenna, it served not only as a symbol of good will between the vampiric Sisters and their human neighbors, but also as a mercy to the Sisters themselves: providing them with a distraction from their eternity trapped within the convent’s walls.
Sister Meri had been one of the original sisters of the convent. Reah did not know the story of the vampire's early life. She thought that only Meri knew that story, now. The woman was mistress of the convent infirmary. She had been the first sister to know Reah. She had treated her after the fire which had nearly killed her. She seemed to actually care for her. Reah had not wanted to see her today.
Reah was lying on something soft: one of the infirmary's beds. She was not under the covers, though. She must have been unconscious for only a short time. She tried to rise. A white hand with long, sharp fingers pressed her down onto the mattress.
"You are not ready to be up yet. Stubborn."
Reah's eyes followed the hand up to the tight black sleeve which met it at its base. She followed the sleeve up and past the sharp outline of the shoulder it led into: up the long, soft white neck beyond it and past the pursed lips hiding the shark smile which did not belong under the kind gray eyes of the strawberry blonde matron of the convent's infirmary. Reah felt red on the base of her neck and averted her eyes.
"I'm fine, Sister."
"You should know better, Reah." A hand was on her chin. It tilted her head on her pillow to look back in the direction of the woman admonishing her. "After two weeks ago. Your birthday is coming."
I know, Reah thought, I can't get into any more trouble.
Reah's mother had never shared the birth date of her daughter. But Meri had given the girl a date and time to celebrate. Reah supposed it had been in an effort to cheer her up during her first months in the convent. She could not remember back that far. Reah was fourteen now, or fifteen. She didn't know. And her birthday was three weeks away.
Fifteen was the age of adulthood in the Convent of the Sisters of the Frozen Blood. If Reah proved her maturity then she would be allowed to decide to leave. If she did not...
I won't be dragged back here again.
"I'm sorry, sister," she said. She was.
"That Breeden boy knocked your head into the floor. He's not allowed here again. You! Do you know what you did to poor Jocelin?"
Reah sat up, guilt and caution forgotten. She barred her teeth, staring into Sister Meri's eyes.
"I don't care."
The woman blinked, and then opened her mouth. She started laughing. It was beautiful laughter--joyful--but it showed all her rows of teeth. Reah ignored it. She rubbed the back of her neck.
"Sorry."
"Ha! I'll bet you are, girl."
Reah rose on shaky feet.
"Is church over?"
"No such luck for you. There is still half an hour's waiting for that."
Reah grimaced. There was no way she could pick flowers for her mother and still manage to get to church on time. Not if she still had to make it to her room. She took a few steps towards the door.
***
She opened her eyes. Meri was looking down at her, worried.
"What...?"
"You fell again. It did not take much effort to revive you, but I do not like this, Reah, you had just recovered--what have you been doing to yourself these past weeks?"
Reah sat up again. Carefully. She'd take things slower this time.
"Nothing," She said. Sister Meri was looking at her still. She hated to see the woman when she was like this. "I've been having trouble eating."
"Boys?"
Reah blushed. "No, no. Nothing like that. I just haven't been able to eat everything I want."
Meri turned away from her and there was momentary silence.
"Ah," the matron said.
Reah had run away from the orphanage nearly two months ago, into the woods. That had proven a stupid decision, on her part. The girl could barely even remember, now, why she had fled in the first place. She had come back, almost starved, two weeks before, and, though she was now recovered, Reah knew that she had come back a different person than when she had left.
Reah had come back to the orphanage half-starved. She had never weighed enough to begin with. She couldn't afford to lose any weight. And yet, since her return, she had barely been able to eat at all. The only thing that she could stomach was mutton and beef and chicken: animal flesh. She had used to love vegetables. She'd vomited the day before when she'd tried to force a piece of cabage down her throat.
It was more than the food or the weight loss, though: she'd been feeling tense. Her mind and her gaze was constantly straying beyond the convent's walls and she had been having trouble keeping her thoughts at hand.
And her eyes. They worried her the most: they were changing. There was a mirror along the wall opposite of Sister Meri circled in peeling, white painted iron flowers. Reah snuck a glance. Yes, right there, on the edges of her irises:
Flecks of gold.
"You will not be going to church today, Reah. I want you on bed rest."
Reah started, then turned around.
"No," she said. "The black fall lilies have just bloomed, Sister. I've never skipped them before."
"Oh? And have you collected these flowers already?"
Reah shook her head, but she didn't drop the subject. "I'll pick them after church."
"You have chores after church, Reah."
"I've never missed giving the first bloom before, Meri!"
Sister Meri did not reply for a second. She had turned back around and was regarding Reah. Judging her, she guessed. She had to understand! If she didn't understand...
"Very well. You will make it to church on time?"
The vampire's stare did not leave her. There was no way that Reah could make it to church at all, not if she went out deep enough into the woods to find the secret places where her mother's black fall lilies grew. Reah knew Meri knew that.
"Yes, sister."
"Very well. Be on your way, girl."
"Sister Meri, I..." Reah stopped. It didn't matter, anyway.
In three weeks Reah would be leaving Fulkton Gardens. There was nothing north of the town but wasteland and barbarians, but south...
She would say goodbye to Sister Meri.
But first she would see her mother.
"Stay out of trouble," the woman said. Reah departed.