Half Past Danger, Long Past Time

Unhooked

Peter Pan soared off once again into the sky of Neverland, Tinker-Bell  was by his side and she left a trail of fairy dust in her wake. The nefarious Hook waved his grotesque left hand at the sky cursing the young adventurers name. It was a typical day in the ever fanciful realm and Peter's last minute defeat of his nemesis was something you could set your crocodile-swallowed-watch by. But as soon as the heroes disappeared from view something had changed. Captain Hook had long been accustomed to being thwarted but in this instance he took it more to heart. Over the next few days the crew noted a change in his demeanour, his florid speech's conspicuous by their absence and he had holed up in his cabin. Those that peered in, saw the once indomitable scoundrel seem depressed and despondent. Needless to say they were  concerned. "Why do I have to go and talk to him?" Starkey rasped dreading the chore. "Because aint you a 'gentleman' Starks? That's what we'se calls you anyway."  Starkey knew he was being wrangled into doing what no-one else wanted to do. He was as much a "gentleman" as Peter Pan was an old timer. "Awright, awright. If I'm not back by the cock crow, tell that parlour wench, of which I'm fond, Ol' Starkey luvs her." He knocked hesitantly at Hooks door. Silence. After a few seconds he decided to take the risk and he crept in. The opening of the door allowed some faint light to spool in and it startled the slumped over pirate. "Who dares...?" Hook bellowed, rising from the ale soaked stupor he had drank himself into. "Awright Cap'n, the lads and me, we've been worried Guv. Seems you're not yourself since ol' Pan took flight, that way 'e does." "Starkey, continue this egress and there's a plank with not only your name on it but I will varnish it with your blood, you thug." Starkey gulped in fear. Hook peered at him, his eyes adjusting to the new light and after a moment of pregnant pause, his exterior seemed to thaw ever so slightly. He sighed. "Very well, enter my chamber. We will converse. I doubt your mewling demeanour could make my mood any worse than it already is".  With a little more confidence Starkey took up a chair at the small table, that Hook was at. "We don' want to pry or be seen to be botherin' you Cap'n but we are worried." Hook gave a short hearty laugh at this. "Ha, well I can't fault the crew for that. It is true that as your superior officer I am to set a tone and I have been re-miss these last few evenings." "You always give good tone Sir. A plundering wicked tone. Best ship I've ever been on." "Forgive me Starkey, but isn't my ship the only ship you've served on that hasn't sank or been blown out of the water? Of course it's the best ship. The greatest ship in all of Neverland..." He put out his arms expansively as he said this. He paused and repeated the word Neverland twice more, with a wistful tone. Shaking himself out of his contemplation he poured another drink for himself and slid the bottle over to his visitor. Starkey promptly, if a little nervously, poured himself a tipple.  "I know what you sea dogs are thinking. Why has the latest fight with that rapscallion so upset our noble leader?!" "Well Sir, I know it's not the best thing to always be...um...losing.." Hook eyed Starkey with a vicious stare. "Losing? Losing? Is that how you perceive these events? God..." He stood up and went over to his nearby book case. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, he had just needed to move from the gaze of his underling.  "Do you like riddles Starks?" "Um...I can't rightly say I do Guv." "Well I'm in the mood for giving you one. So pay attention. When does a man face both defeat and triumph in a single struggle?" Starkey was stumped. "Em..I think I'm going to be a-needin' some more details Cap..." Without warning, Hook slashed his book case with his mighty claw knocking over several volumes before facing Starkey once more. "People think that eternal boy bests me at every turn. But they understand nothing. It's not about victory or loss with that one. No he and I share a greater destiny." Starkey was shaken by the outburst and was struggling to keep his composure. Hook was ruthless and dangerous certainly but there was a honour to his dastardly deeds. He had never seen such an outburst of anger before. Well without there haven been a crocodile or a Lost boy nearby. He stuttered. "It's about the hunt is it then? The fight." "No..no. You don't understand. Nobody, save one, does. I wasn't always like this Starkey. The Cultured and bitter scoundrel you see before you. In my youthful days I plundered. I pillaged. But I enjoyed it.  Sailing the seas, sacking ships. Witnessing wonders and sights even Neverland couldn't match. I may have been less than virtuous but I had a sense of beauty and appreciation for this now wretched world." He slumped back down into his chair and tapped his glass with his hook. "I thrilled to the new and to discovery. Until...I stole a treasure from a powerful witch that was." Starkey mumbled. "A witch. Like a real life witch." Hook replied. "Well she didn't have warts Starks but yes she and her cursed coven placed a spell on me following some thievery." "Cap'n, what did they do?" Hook hesitated. "Oh you silly man. Don't you get it? Peter Pan...is me!" Starkey was stunned and deeply confused. "Peter Pan is Smee? But that makes nooo sense..." Hook snarled in frustration. "NOT SMEE, YOU DAFT HALF WIT!  ME! Pan is me." The drinks had been knocked over but neither had noticed. "The spell the Witches cast, it took something from me. Deep down. My inner child. The part that experiences wonder and immaturity and keeps more youthful reactions ticking over in a persons mind. It sliced off a part of my soul and moulded it into that youthful and mischievous thorn in my side." "You're Peter Pan?? He is you? You are he?" Starkey was dumbfounded. "Why do you think he never grows up? He is a manifestation of infernal and eternal optimism and roguishness. Without my inner child anchoring my soul, I became this. A bitter and cynical pirate. Wealthy but never happy." "Does he know Sir?" "I doubt it. Even though all the clues are there. It's why he loses his shadow so often. Haven't you ever wondered about that? Why It's barely connected? It is what remains of my wickedness, a part that merely skims the surface of his brash exterior." "But then you can never..." "Win, Starkey? True. I can never win and the fight will continue for all eternity." Hook walked over to a window that peered out to sea. "On my stronger days I almost cheer for him. There must be something so wonderful about never having to face the tangled world of adulthood. You know...I was the one who named this realm...Neverland." "Flamin' eck," Starkey exclaimed. "I thought it was because of the magic here." "No, it's my own private little joke. it's because I want him to always be flying above such petty problems and grown up troubles If he ever "lands" then it means his magical existence is over. Kaput. Philosophers say good versus evil is the never-ending struggle. I face a stranger battle. Wonder versus Worldliness. Cynicism versus Optimism. I have been sad these last few days, not because of him escaping, certainly not bu because of how close I came to actually defeating him..." A heavy silence followed. Starkey's worried breathing had become quite audible and he wasn't sure what to say following the Captains confession. "Just go, you cur." Hook muttered, his tone resigned and broken. Starkey got up to leave, still reeling from the secret he had become privy to. He began realis what a precarious position he was now in. Would the dreaded Captain Hook allow an subordinate to walk around knowing this secret? He nervously looked back to make sure Hook was not planning a swift attack to silence him forever.  The Captain remained at the window staring aimlessly out into the ocean. Relaxing a little, Starkey once more turned to the door. It was then a sharp sudden pain went through his entire being and he looked down to see a dark hook plunged into his chest. It was black and featureless. He had been stabbed by Hooks shadow. In his last moments he realised the truth. Just as it was for Peter Pan, Hooks shadow was too a playful sprite, albeit a far deadlier creature. Starkey slumped to the floor, dead. His body was quietly thrown over board by the rest of the crew. They spoke nothing of it, all assuming he had angered the Captain and had been dutifully punished.  Hook marched onto the deck of the ship and was asked by the Helmsman if they needed to change course. After a second of consideration he whispered softly "Second to the right and straight on til morning..."

"Excuse me Cap'n?" The Helmsman hadn't heard the order properly. Hook responded.  "Oh no. No new bearing. We are on this heading. We can't change course now."

Chatter

a clipped message

man to boy

and back again

im not sure

if i even want to touch you

but i ll know again

tonight when the chatter

dies down

and im helped by the forces

and cogs of age

in the drawn out years

ive avoided the answer

some twisted leg chairs

and the onset of winter

A Character design for Magnus the Owl, a character from The Moon Fox, illustrated by Marie Denham. check out her tumblr here: http://mariedenham.tumblr.com/

The House of Words

Like the corner spider unable to understand this city No qualms to the task at hand I'd swear your eyes looked empty. It was a long walk to this place where saints sit in eternal hubris and because these figures never speak their stories will remain forever side-less. A strange fate that does not sit well Something fierce in deeper nature across this patchwork Earth while the mind covets the souls stature. When we are compelled and until truly embraced, even though the tongue is the house of words it still can not explain its taste.

Independent Artist (Pt.1)

Beyonce fever seems to have gripped the world with her new album coming out of nowhere. So I wrote this to celebrate such an "Independent Woman" (Pt.1) "The marriage to Jay- Z, she got it better solo career than Kelly, she got it The booty she's shaking, she got it, cause she depends on royalties Another platinum release that's hot she'll record it Another "featuring" guest spot She'll work it The album she made is strong She'll drop it 17 videos for each song You can't stop it I depend on the original melody (it's a good melody) All the producers who have been contracted Throw your tracks at me! All the directors who have been contacted Throw your plans at me! All the survivors who are ticket holders Throw your cash at me! All the internet trolls who can't touch the Knowles, Throw your trash at me! Girl, I don't know how you hit the notes like that..."

Cat-ch 22 - A Poem about Cats and the Internet

  I was thinking about cats, the domestic pet How much space is devoted to these dolls through their odd relationship with the Internet And how they've come to have the prefix, "lol"s

Every Tom, Quick and Furry Every Tab Key leading to a Tabby The whole wide web is in such a hurry We even had a cat known for just being crabby Over them the whole world has flipped Even when kind or when vicious I guess it can be traced back to Ancient Egypt. All the way back to the black cat smugly superstitious. The timeline of the felined The whole kitten and kaboodle From the feral to the sterile kind (Have you ever heard Cat sex? it's brutal) Their retractable claws giving me practical pause and leaving marks on my arms And of their rational cause in stalking distractible jackdaws I could spin you many yarns. I wonder of their nine lives Which one really counts? Purring and scurrying Waiting for the moment to pounce After the climbing of trees, and scaling some fences They'd catch a scent in the breeze Just one of their heightened senses. Landing on their feet however one falls Grooming themselves and their young No wonder they pick up hairballs with a sandpaper like tongue They slink through the night with unique vertebrae Only when they are gone do mice come out to play But the Queens are Glaring at their prey This is the same all over from Housecat to stray. So when I see my thousandth cat picture, I think of songs, cartoons and ancient scripture And it seems no suprise their stance in pop culture Falling for something so adorable is human nature So felis catus would love to be seen as Royal But Dogs should make a big on-line come back Cause the audience would be canine-like , so loyal To challenge this current monopoly of Cat Writers note: I've written plenty of poems about forbidden love. This one is for-kitten love.

Meanwhile in the North Pole...

The mistle has gone and stubbed its toe while 3 "wise" men criticise the late late toy show Wine is mulling over his choices there in the corner Frankin isn't making lots of Sense but still getting away with myrrh-der. The music has changed this year in the Workshop The wrapping has lost its "W" and now it's gone all hip hop But the Elves are so sick of carols that they are embracing this unseasonal but totally reasonable musical "about facing". Saint Nick is busy in his office with his most important silent partner, if we were to use business vernacular to describe this unholy alliance between Father Christmas  and a shady business man named "Secular". The meeting is concerned with the fall in demand for Christmas Crackers "If the market doesn't pick up, we could easily lose our most lucrative backers!" Nick sits back in his chair remembering the good old days of sleigh bells and sleet Now he has to employ an elf to write whatever it is St. Nick is meant to Tweet "Things have changed in the North Pole", he says before an ominous pause "I think Father Time is biding himself til he makes a move on Mrs. Claus!!" "Frosty the Snowman is nowhere to be found Some Sunny boy has said he saw him go to ground after he was busted last year for some "snow" at one of his usual gigs When he was questioned by the police he gave up his dealer, the mysterious 'R. Briggs'!" Blitzen through his Christmas card writing, so Donner can begin his splurging Vixen makes the joke that as reindeer go she's hardly like the holy Virgin Comet's streaking through the place, with Dasher swift in pursuit Rudolph is a bit of brown/red noser so he's re-examining the Christmas route Dancer has four left feet so he's nervous about Cupids advances While the final reindeer is mincing around, yep, cause he's the one that prances Noel, the newest elf intern isn't feeling very festive Holly and Jolly the twins in Accounting, didn't like him being so suggestive he got in to this job on his J(olly)1 Visa But now he'd rather have post "St. Stephens day Amenisa"! Mrs. Claus just shrugs at the state of the place saying "Tis the season" While she makes a shoddy jumper for her husband in act of passive aggression "Jack Frost is a cool customer but I must remember I'm not single! And thinking about it, it's not bad at all being Mrs. Kris Kringle" Next year they'll all be more organised and I think  they'll rediscover the joys of it But til then all my well wishes can be summarised in  Nollaig Shona Duit!

How I would have ended "Man of Steel"

Ok, sort of an unusual post here but I've been bothered by aspects of this film and the ending with how Zod is dealt with so here is my personal alternate ending:

Obviously HUGE SPOILERS for anyone who hasn't seen it. In the film we are shown a piece of technology that can put you in someone else's mind and create some sort of landscape there. Now they didn't really elaborate on it, but had I been writing it, I would have presented that process and piece of equipment differently and then at the end used it against Zod. Borrowing from the climax of the Superman story "For the Man Who Has Everything" (a must read for fans, it's wonderful), after the others have been sucked back into the Phantom Zone, I'd had moved the narrative to a point where Zod is tricked using that technology into thinking he had created a New Krypton. It would have been a nice nod to that story and would have been  thematically satisfying cause you could frame him in the same way he was when being "frozen" before entering the Zone first time around. He could be placed in a secret underground installation, built by an up and coming genius named Luthor... One of the last scenes could have been Superman talking with that guy General Swanwick and saying: Superman: Well General, he's in his own sort of Phantom Zone right now, only this one appeals to that monster. Swanwick: And if he ever gets out, are you prepared for that Son? You may have to... Superman: I hope that day never comes. but if he does escape, you can count on me. I'll always be around... *beat*  to help. So Zod has gotten his empty victory. Superman hasn't compromised any morals. It uses established technology within the film. Also It strengthens the bond between humans and Superman and sets him out in a far more traditional hero path.  Yes DC I am available.

All-Seeing

An evening mask or a pretty

pattern drawn

on the sky of your back

ready for nights waiting hand

the skeletal bottles collect

on the porch

ready for the warm house invite

and the patter of the confident booms strong

I can not wait til the calm

when all the violence is gone

but the walls as thin as whispers

and it reaches the sleeping mind

the inquisitive part

the seas are receding

faster than the beaches are formed.

We are still all the way put together

the slip of years warming the bones of youth

the body is a temple, on a Holy River

and no one descends from the mountains

to hear my truth

when the figures brush against me

and the naked boast they are all seeing

I can not remember for my life, anything

past the point of my own body, that the

light is now catching.

M

the ghostly air between the cars

i checked the moon obsessively like a watch

legs like trees caught in a typhoon

my exhale hoped it would brush against your breath

my head never pounded, in fact it sang

something old, the thing that falls behind

cabinets

the letters that become too tangled

to ever write

the dreams that rise to be the debris

of the heavens

these things re-discovered through you 

I felt like the lonely soul embraced 

back into a fold

the most simple paradox

of returning but still arriving for 

that first time

you leaned back with your legs coiled

hair swirled, words tumbled,

it was as if my iris stretched to breaking point

by the light of a thousand houses

but instead it was just a lazy gaze

my direction

amongst some greying figures

tiny stones that are strewn around

I dreamt I knew what to say

I dreamt your heart purred in reply