http://slow.writerscafe.org/Alistair The original writings of author Alistair (Ali) en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775995699 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 but when the Sunis done with usand dust has earned its EarthI will meet youin the Morning Treewhen we comeback as birds... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2164776/ The poster read:“Gone Missing”The come-back-kidhas failed to show.The Old Man saw him,pissing by the Rainbow Factorywall, against the wind,like a prayer no longer givento the prism-surfing life.He said,“The come-back-kid, mightNot come back”..He wrung his swindled heathe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2141878/ You are close...There is musk about your scattered limbs,Sweet silvers on your Southern drawl,Deep heat pinned papillon..Let us pull these pearlsA little tighter...Recite the hymnsThat stoke the firesFrom bended kneeExcite these summoned energies,To crave these hearsay heresiesAnd see.....Our war- p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2103673/ Might as wellgo one more round,it wont be longbefore they findour deck ofhaggard rafters,all laid outlike body-bagsand facing inthe same direction.Work it throughin pencil, in the marginsof a notepad.They'll seein tree rings, years from now,us , squeezed intothe sixth extinction,fungal-sporeano.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2102468/ It is difficult to defineWith no black dog to leadthis pressure dropped familiar.No symbol/ fetish/ effigy to incorporate a misery that drainsthe joy from all that I hold dear..How does one trace the contoursof an abstract exhalation?Somewhere neara pendulum is stilled.That which I loved one mi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2093896/ StillAndStrangely soIt seemsAs if the splendid Earth lay waitInertin barefoot,open-door,propensitysuspended.Then tothis end abideby quiet rulesTake mind to killthe unintendedword that turnsthrough all of thisBut knowI miss youStill http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2091536/ The melting toll of empty hours,- chasteAmong the dry-stone steeples,-stirsThe cobbled rune of foetal wonder.Forgotten waifs, in teasing, seeThe scheming torpor of our waysThen mingle in the vaults of our regret.Through half closed eyes theUnremembered rise on draftsOf innocence, to spell their name.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2084008/ caught Venus on a clear morning.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2079026/ the flavor of storms.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2075403/ For my little Sister http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2075396/ Have come to quietthe voicesto wrap them insea-fret,  to setthem aside for a while.Rest ankles in campion barrows,to search for the wonderwe lost in the chase for tomorrow.To smile with the guise of a child,if the moment be woken,And, should it arisefrom my somber entwines,exalt in th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2072579/ Found meaninglost in empty roomsThe lump of myimpostor stare sawtime collapsein pixel thoughtreduced to liquid moleculesI brought youout to open waterkissed the lightingfrom your headSent fire- shipsto steer you clearof awful loves thatlook for you in places.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2062803/ Of latethe sergeant thrill-to-burn,remains, at best unorthodox,a cutter’s stock of winsome blendcompiled in slim anthologies.To date, an urgent threnodybates, cider- pressed, impertinentas bargain basement demagoguesrenounce their crass belief.Rude, canon-balled, eccentricsventing, hurt- infle.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2057369/ Fasttoo long in aspic,antipathy for wind-chillkills the arable concern..Have Listened tothe shipping-forecast-victuals of an Island-race-recur their little mysteriesfrom keeping.Beenpacing offthe Malin Head infossil-fueled embarrassment,deciphering a sense of selfand deepening. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2044382/ Youare somewhere closeyet dislocated, shelteredin your centered peaceadrift beside all certainty.Weturn as apron-ed satellitesin matinee of gentle speak,our mundane, London-Saturdaythe soundscape to your stasis.Surrenderedto this bastion  of valiantmachinery. Your pillarsin this paradise o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2034781/ Mary Colwell at http://www.curlewmedia.com/ is doing some extraordinary work to highlight the current plight of this wonderful bird. Please share what she has to say http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2016010/ Cold stoles the coast in geisha voilesof pawned Atlantic mourning, whereThe plangent skirl of larids carry through the vast exquisiteplains of February emptiness.Aloft on coronal ruin, she flewin free form falling, between the spheresshe grew in brightness, and at her stroke,the moping shale, a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2005395/ ..a "Rain-time Truth".. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2001199/ Upwind- cuffed pathwayschancedand fooledIsaw her, briefly Herbriskly dress, a squalling mauloflast year's favourite maple, hornedinall jurassic passion, met me,dizzy,by the lee-side wallin gale-borne abandon. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/2000921/ The wimpled scrolls recede....The authors of the braille sandsleave Northern marrow in their wordas sharp as Marram grasses bentin keening subjugation....Illuminated sanskrit kelp,infused with lust of fallen auras,scrims the weed-green gartered breaksnow shaken from the glaucous mane,while fleets of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1997305/ Saw you descending from Alpha Centauri,Coming in weightless on Geminid halos,an ice-bow of swan cry, indelicate nova,a meandering circus of flame .All numinous vision run glossy with travel,surrendering spells of chaotic designto palace the valiantlight years with presence.Your brigantine embers ret.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1992810/ A bartered darkof full shone armoursgallowed brooks inshins of aldertrod the clays of stilted copsethat crest the low slung chestnut ridesTo inglenooks of scuttled hamletsstrung in river- maiden's hair ,a haven for the last ascendantflinted from the steeping turf.A subtle art of arcane movementstarb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1991628/ I would swearwe are the last of our kind,blinkered end-time visionariesperhaps.Implausible romanticsshaping formlessideology with exhaustedsensibilitiesAndI know we shallnot reach outsidethis century.Yet there remainsthat perfect spacebetween my fingersfor your hand. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1989704/ a time ago, I used to self-medicate- alcohol being the main drug of choice- I remember being amazed at how something taken from a bottle would warm my whole being- even make me laugh and dance. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1989001/ emerging from sleep, I heard a Blackbird on the rooftop, and I could have sworn I heard it flute the words "San Salvador"... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1988325/ When the ol' Black Dog comes calling, I find that a walk down to the water somehow restores the balance. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1987383/ Lost leaves ago, beforethe bark- clad savageruled with iron lung,when  laurels ofa one- room den, grewsleek with wet- lid plundermy sauntering in tousles ofa brief and creaseless happinessbeheld the gifted wish of secret birds.birds that combed the milking beechin lemon centred madrigals&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1986699/ I found myself smiling,a telescope finding myown private Jupitercooped in the nooseof a bulbYes,its stupid to measure in hope--  this I knowbut I’m told it's the lastthing to die....So why wouldI sully such luminarywisdom..... . In  kingdoms ofmerciless churches I findmysel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1981033/ We drowned here today...Sluiced along curious Holloways papered in shell.We knew few colours by name,Yet saw how they merged, circled, embraced,to sweet-talk the senses to parley.Last night the first Redwings sipped the late airwith the high-muffled chatter of Fieldfares passing.Morning came garnish.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1980088/ Peered through the ideal imageryof petty dream-spun avenues.Brushed the quiet tides that rosein fluid blends of milky down.The clamour of the Westbound flocksthat scarred the last in pulsing chevronstold of lands beyond the layof harlequin recline.The lilac swathes that bled to bluethen proffered ai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1979258/ The time of the shining ofWind-summered grasses, has passed,-To the lark-breast mottle-The harvested skin of theSenescent landThe candle-snatch gutter ofHurrying wing seesThe last of the coinThat was minted in thatchesOf deepwoodOf latticing brambleOf crumbling eve.The mourn of the MoorlandHas .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1979177/ No sound disturbsThe cloud curled steeps of sea green pineswhose clinging oceanic thoughtsare freed, released from malted slopes.Respired slow , the sallow spiralsherd to high, still, corrugations,Their purse; a billion broochesFor their keep.And, then a RavenBarks its gloat across the drab pavilion.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alistair/1979176/