Darling, when I think of you…

12. Salome

Salome by Pierre et Gilles Augmented photograph. 1991

Darling, when I think of you…
My skin tingles, hairs rise.
In my dry gummy mouth
I taste a metallic
Taint of terror.
In my mind
I see a red-flare distress beacon
Bloom glaring
In the empty dark sea night sky.
I hear klaxons ringing out
Harmonics of horror.
I smell the sweat of my own fear.
Darling, in truth,
I try not to think of you…
Too often.

Bella Basura
June 2017

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Jean Dark

The Short Answer Chapbook for sale here 

New flash fiction from Bella Basura

¡Que Bellisima!

From behind the huge ice-cream-laden pink-plastic sundae glass a child’s voice wailed out
“Strawberries! Strawberries! I don’t like strawberries”. Pandemonium rising up from an irritating bratty pre-schooler in the budget cafeteria on the ferry back to England.

I hadn’t heard an English voice for months, and now,  due to uncertain weather conditions passengers having been banned from the decks,  I was hearing my native tongue ring out around me, obscenely.

The sullen wet-dog stinking day-trip masses circumnavigated the duty-free and bars,  aimlessly damp and the boy banged his heels endlessly, in infuriating non-syncopation. “I hate strawberries. I don’t want it. It’s smelly!”. The infantile squall was still passing over.

I ambled my memory back to Spain, still not believing I was actually leaving. I stared back deep into shimmering days of purposeful inactivity, punctuated through with isolated monochrome stop-frame images of intense moonlit things.

“I hate it. I hate it. I hate you!” strawberry-boy shouts, and I think it into Spanish, out of habit “Le odio Le odio Te odio Le odio Le odio Te odio” ringing in my mind, like a joyful Hispanic pat a cake game.

Links
The Short Answer Chapbook

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Jean Dark

The Short Answer Chapbook for sale here 

Dream Theme

A new ocassional Flash Fiction Series from Bella Basura

Dream Theme One

Weird Winter Wishes
Photo: Phil MFU
Cambridge 2012

In my dream about Thurston Moore it was night, I was up by the Co-op  convenience store roundabout and all around there was this strange snow piled everywhere, like great banks of crunchy white snow – it was like some scene from a movie.
So I took my coat off, laid it down and began sledding through tunnels in the snow on my coat. Suddenly Thurston Moore was beside me and we were streaming through these glistening snow tunnels on my coat, laughing, O we were laughing, really laughing.
Eventually as we’re approaching the telephone box at the end of my street we began to slow. And there are smears of brown on the pristine snow. I look down and it is dog shit and my coat sleeve is dragging in dog shit and Thurston Moore disappears.
And I have to walk home alone in a blizzard in my torn and dog shitted coat.

Bella Basura
April 2017

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The Short Answer Chapbook

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Jean Dark

The Short Answer Chapbook for sale here 

Bella Basura Live in March

Two performances for Bella Basura coming up this month…

Scarecrow Corner Springtime Benefit Gig, Cambridge
At The Devonshire Arms, 19th MarchScarecrow Corner S[ringtime Benefit Gig

Poetic Springs Bury St Edmunds

Poetic Springs, Bury St Edmunds
Anselm Community Centre, 23rd March

Limited copies of The Short Answer chapbook will be on sale at both events.

Dream Lover by Bella Basura

Dream Lover
by Bella Basura

In my dream we sit down on the bed in the hot thunderstorm afternoon, and we talk. We tumble headlong into conversations around tantric psycho-sexual experimentation, and intimacy, trust, adventure, and systematic exploration of kundalini energy and control of its transits through the etheric body. I liked that bit best. All that stuff about psychic electrification of each of my chakras in slow-motion pulsations of pure energy.

I wake into empty house twilight, sick taste in my mouth, my socks twisted and damp, hair sprawling unkempt.
In the kitchen I make a pot of tea and wait. Slipping in and out of the memory of the dream, story-telling it into existence, into a finely polished  narrative, into a gleaming moral with a twist in the tail and happy ever-ending.

I try to hug you when you appear home, in the kitchen doorway. But you step back saying “Put me down, I’ve just come in from work”.
I step back, snubbed.
You storm upstairs.
I think fleetingly that your hair, tonight in particular,
smelled of stale sperm and too many rushed rancid coffees,
the taste of reality I dare not admit.

Bella Basura
Feb 2017

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The Short Answer Chapbook

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Jean Dark

The Short Answer Chapbook for sale here 

New Flash Fiction from Bella Basura

Addicted to Tantra

Kundalini Me By Bella Basura 2013

Kundalini Me
By Bella Basura
2013

For weeks I have experienced this kind of activation, awakening of my Kundalini Serpent. It’s like I’m fully alive, in every cell fully aware all the time and I’m constantly aroused and endlessly scattered amongst  the whole of humanity, every sentient being, and all vibrating with an efflorescence of love and ecstasy.

But I’m totally useless, can’t get anything practical done, I eat by happenstance, sleep not at all, all I can do is waft trailing my aura around my flat, sprinkling  the glitter of my ecstasy across the known and unknown planes of the multi-verse.

I am kundalini-drunk, Doctor.

Bella Basura 2017

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Jean Dark

The Short Answer Chapbook – OUT NOW!

Buy in person at  live performances or via mail order from Esoterranean Books shop

The Short Answer

an anthology of flash fiction by Bella Basura

Kali by Tim Neate

Kali
by Tim Neate

from the Introduction
“In the 1990s I spent a year grubbing around Holland and Spain on a DSS Enterprise Allowance Scheme as a self-employed author and poet. I spent the decade devouring magazines, journals and chapbooks by the small presses that were so active and plentiful back then. I particularly loved anything by Tom Vague, HeadPress,  HEAD magazine, Rapid Eye and Unlimited Dream Company. In those days there were bookshops too, Compendium in Camden and The Inner Bookshop in Oxford and London’s Atlantis. I even devoted a lot of time and energy to producing pamphlets of my own, which were an irregular source of beer money. I tried to persuade others to print my writings. Eventually I studied bookbinding to enable myself to print, bind and distribute my pamphlets and chapbooks…And then everything went online…

So, now after a gap of almost ten years here is a new chapbook of my writings – this new pamphlet has come about as a result of performing my writing at spoken word events and I need some merchandise to flog to cover travelling expenses. All of the pieces in this collection are 100 word flash fictions – a genre I specialise in. So, I hope you will put your hands deep into your pockets and buy my new chapbook, and also come to see me perform. You won’t regret it!”

Contains a dozen 100 word flash fictions

the-short-answer-etsy-1

Esoterranean Books

24 pages, hand-bound with hand-tinted cover.
Image by Tim Neate.
Buy in person – £5 – at one of my upcoming live performances
or via mail order – £5 + £2 p+p – from my Etsy shop

New Flash Fiction Story

Here is a new Flash Fiction, that I performed for the first time at the recent Scarecrow Corner Benefit at The Devonshire Arms a week or so ago.

Although it’s longer than my usual offerings, you must agree it is still pretty short!

Fairies Down The Plughole

I’ve only had head lice once. I think I caught them on a group walking holiday in Wales.
One afternoon towards the end  of the week, I chaperoned a lovely little 8 year old called Annie. Her mum, too tired,  or busy, or divorce-damaged, or desperate to wash her hair, pressganged me into taking Annie with me on a four hour guided ramble in the rugged North Wales mountains, around the stunning Cadar Idris, throne of Uther. A folkloric landscape of the poet, the madman, the dead man who are said to gather on the Idris summit in the dawn’s pale gloom. A mythic and magical and harsh place of legend.

It could have been an arduous trek, but I had the delightful company of Annie to smooth the day along. Annie loved fairies, Annie saw fairies everywhere, “look, fairy doors” she would say stopping at almost every tree stump, every cleft in the tangled woodland tree roots. Annie paused at every Oak, Ash and Thorn, paid homage to every bee, butterfly and dragonfly we saw “Look! Fairies” she would say.

And at the end of the long day she granted me fairies of my own. In a gesture of blessing She drew her fingers across her cherubic dark curls, she placed her hands onto the crown of my head and dipped our heads together until our foreheads touched, we paused and stared into each others eyes. “now you have fairies too” She said.

Later, around the campfire, Annie tucked up safe in her sleeping bag, I chatted with Annie’s Mum. I said “She’s a one for the fairies” Mum laughed, “yes, it’s fairies this and fairies that, she sees them everywhere, ‘look fairies’ she says, all the time. Even when I’m using the headlice shampoo, she’s like ‘Mummy, Look! Fairies’ and I say yes honey, wash them down the plughole”

Bella Basura
December 2016

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Strawberry Fair Scarecrow Corner

Brand new Flash fiction

 

Yesterday Evening I had a wonderful time performing with a stunning music and spoken word lineup at Scarecrow Corner Winter Warmer. Here is a new 100 word Flash Fiction I wrote for the event.

Horny Goat Fairy of Strawberry Fair by Tim Neate 2016

Horny Goat Fairy
of Strawberry Fair
by Tim Neate 2016

Ding Dong

This week being christmas week they had a competition at my work, there was a prize for the best Christmas carol sung over the public address system. So I had a go. Sang them my favourite carol, although I not sure I got the words right.
I went :

“Dum dum didi didi dumb
Didi dum dum dum dum dumb

I am an antichrist
I am an anarchist
I wanna destroy passers by

Cause I
Wanna be
Anarchy
Wanna be
Anarchy

And I
Wanna be
Anarchy
No dogs body
Anarchy for the UK”

And then they switched the bloody speakers off!

Bella Basura December 2016

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Strawberry Fair Scarecrow Corner

The Short Answer, Again

Turn The Page
By Bella Basura

Golden Vagueness - Bella Basura 2016

Golden Vagueness
Bella Basura 2016

Unspeakable beauty, like the floating harmonic deep in keening tinnitus. Words break free, and my sentence struggles away from me, my grasp slipping a grip, like a  hand slipping  a glove. She tears from my skin and flies. Ricocheting my awareness of “I” into a bounding and rebounding silence. A silent creeping vibration, like the tap-tap tapping of a solitary black widow on her dew-luminous web, alone at night. A fly has slipped it’s shackles and fled. A silent creeping vibration of voidness, null, empty and zero.
The one that got away.

More Flash Fiction – The Short Answer a collection of short stories in 100 words.

Soon to be available in chapbook print version.
email:witchysticler@gmail.com for more details.

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