By: Alex The moment of dawn, stars fallen Darkest light, shivers the soul, Before the cockerel, comes silence. I await, winter storm, I await, frozen, torn. And so time is raging, Draining through my wound Pouring along with tears My mask is askance; My mask but happenstance. Begins the end, downward I try to…
Category: Archive
Welcome to The Shiver Vaults: archived posts, from 2009 to 2018, still published on the ShiverWriggle website. The vast majority of archived posts are no longer published on the ShiverWriggle website. If you’re looking for something specific that you can’t find here, get in touch.
The Hatch
By: Alex When we are young the world sees us differently. We are viewed through kinder eyes, words spoken softly, gentle to our tender ears. Colours seems more lucid, more vivid and perhaps a shade too real. Objects carry stories, meaning present only to the young; names are attached, the world is ensouled. And…
On Time and Recording It
By: Vague Time. Ever present, pervasive and persuasive. It surrounds us, envelops us in a blanket of mortality. Constantly reminding us of our existence, reminding us of a future we may experience, things we should have done, things we shouldn’t have done. It is often viewed as an enemy; how am I going to…
Gypsy Curse
By: Alex As a child, or so goes the tale, I was held by a Gypsy. She was one of the old breed, those disappeared into story and memory. A twist of heather and some clothes pegs to be sold; paltry fare but essential. Essential also to avoid the curse, a few pennies once…
I remember when I was once still a child
By: Alex I would build a castle of safety every night; tucking the duvet tightly around me to prevent chill or worse. Tighter than a mummified corpse I’d lay, above me an array of teddy bears, stuffed behind the headboard, bent double were the two largest – Goldie and Brownie. They would genuflect a…
And One Day
By: Alex And one day I will be old. Grey, tattered; but full of memory. My hair threadbare, Soul deep and rich; As I see in your eyes. I wish to carry This age, this Experience, with your same dignity. And when I am worn thin, I will leave my mark, My influence, my…
Distorted Meaning
By: Alex Placid are waters Which conceal turbulence, Churning under film Of obedience. Deeper, far deeper Runs the channel. Hidden from view And kith and ken. Carries the flow; Peace is striated Torn by persistence Of memory and thought. Rattles the trap, Shakes the cage, Banded glory, Shattered age. Poet’s truth tells Eggshell blues; Distorted meaning Inveigled news….
A Kind of Kindling
By: Alex A kind of kindling, sparks awaken from dormant carbon. Dreams burn across the brow Through the heart. Across the senses. The town is sleeping through the winter’s clamour The wind is simply a snore, or a murmur unknown to the self. Doors closed, windows rattled by thrusting, prying hands Snow, hail, rain….