Here’s a quick excerpt from the first edition by Canola Editions.

By E.V. Greig

(An excerpt from The Legend of Graymyrh.)

Kebe was unchanged. The ancient desert citadel loomed above the dunes, stone walls stained russet with the dust of countless storms. A tattered rainbow of faded silk and sackcloth tents and bazaars clogged the steep streets and narrow plazas. In the main square, a huge fountain bubbled – its life giving waters tinted blood red from their subterranean journey. Jealously guarded, the waters were gathered into clay pots, loaded onto carts and wagons and spirited away to the temple district for purification. Days later, the now safe to drink liquid was sold to the population at an exorbitant rate. In the desert, there were few willing to argue with those that could purify a well and so the temple priests grew fat from the profits made off what ought to have been a free service. Still, Eltornius was not there to concern himself with the dealings of corrupt priests. He had one last chance to find the one he sought. He could not afford to falter in his quest; if the woman he sought were to fall into the wrong hands then all was lost. Her unborn child was the key to Graymyrh’s entire fate. His divinations had led him here, but Kebe was still a vast city. Searching it was going to take precious time and worse yet, he could not be certain of how much time he really had.

(Hope you enjoyed it!)

Canola Editions is the next venture from Lapwing Publications and A New Ulster. Submissions will be opening soon.

Jealous Poetess

Press announcement

Pleased to announce the latest endeavour from Lapwing Publications and A New Ulster.
Canola Editions a range devoted to fantasy, science fiction and mythological themed work will be released shortly. Our first piece is by E. V. Greig The Legend of Graymyrh available soon.

The Non Herein by Michael Mc Aloran

The Non Herein is the latest book of poetry by Michael Mc Aloran the book can be bought herehttps://sites.google.com/a/lapwingpublications.com/lapwing-store/michael-mc-alora

There is a natural flow to the order of these poems. A stream of nihilism which takes the reader through a carcass of decay. I was reminded of the despair found in Dada-ism especially the concept of anti art. Michael’s work de-constructs the written word, he dismantles it before the readers eyes each stanza picked bare the bones of the form left bare for the reader to touch.

There are times when the words seem to writhe on the page bound and unbound at the same time. It is at times a dark journey but one which the reader enjoys nonetheless.

 

Into Echoing –

Sun dead
In a lash of teaming
(Echo
         -cleft-
Echo)
Jugular ash
Spit upon the carcass
Of it
As if to breathe
In some scuttling
Light
In the scum of
Refuse
Torn into echoing 

(from The Non Herein)

The work reminds me of past religions long since left in the dust and the slaughterhouse both of which see things de-constructed and the poetry combined to tear some ancient titan asunder. 

Vacant Of-

Breathless the eye
Of the begun
(spoken less of)
Vapours
Tracing the night’s
Parchment
Meat to tear
In sun sank spun
Of Ashes
Cadaver guillotine
Noose/ dread/ scuttling
In the dark
Muscle of pulse
All the while the ebbing
And the absence
Of all
Graceless
Traceless as the eye
Vacant of pupil’s light

 

These are just two of the poems that nestle within the pages of The Non Herein and I would highly recommend the book. Its always a pleasure to find a book of poetry which proves hard to put down that immerses you and leaves you wanting more The Non Herein accomplishes just that. 

Another more in depth review can be found here; http://open.salon.com/blog/poethead/2013/01/14/the_non_herein-_by_michael_mc_aloran

also you can visit Michael’s poetry blog http://boneorchardpoetry.blogspot.co.uk/

Belfast Book festival is coming soon.

So the Belfast Book festival starts soon http://www.belfastbookfestival.com/ Its looking like its going to be an amazing festival this year. Voica Versa will be performing again they are a five person performance poetry act. I will be taking part in this years festival as well as a reader and also as a painter one of my paintings is based on a poem by Geraldine O’Kane her works amazing and it was a brilliant opportunity to practice intertextuality and cross media participation. I’ve attached the wip of the painting.

More poetry and news.

 

I

Every decision made

every choice took

control, fate, reaction

caught in entropy.

Fate decided by an

ivory cube

which face will it be?

what choice will be?

One to six

this game is predeterimined

We are all pieces in a cosmic

machine.

The die is cast

a loaded choice

we cast them anyway.

Hesitate

hold

breathe

we keep waiting.

II

Past, present, future

aspects of a life yet lived.

Wardrums echo drown out the pipes of peace.

Names serve no meaning here anonymity is our

only defence.

past, present, future

dreamt the unquiet sleepers.

Law or disorder

our avatavistic need, our presence flet.

Scars are all we leave in our wake.

past, present, future

walls of torment collapse.

Representatives in another place

we scurry beneath the pleasure palaces,

win lose or draw the battle goes on.

Well I’ve had work published again this time in an anthology due out next month and in http://www.joomag.com/magazine/synaesthesia-may-2013/0593356001366828384

finally A New Ulster 9 is taking submissions. Issue 8 has been read world wide which is pretty amazing when you think about it.

For Abbie and Dog Walkers in general

Your amber eyes watch my every step as I drift from chore to chore,

You don’t judge, offer advice you just watch with an innocence,

Crumbseeker I call you your penchant for finding every last scrap

Always amuses.

 

Your amber eyes and charcoal coat glisten in the sunlight as waters

Trickle by I remember your first foray into water carried in my arms,

You quivered at the cold oceans touch, now you wade in recklessly

Paddling, water is your second home.

 

Your amber eyes twinkle from under the mud flecked coat

I sigh in exasperation there are never enough towels to dry you

Walks in winter always turn to this, you finding the biggest mudhole,

Wallowing nay revelling in it your first home.

 

Your amber eyes are closed now your snores louder than thunder,

You lye stretched on stolen blankets head buried in my shoes,

I try to move you over, you turn it into a game I collapse on the floor

You win this time.

 

Your amber eyes watch me with concern you walk slowly beside me

I feel your worry every time I stumble and yet you are there always helping

Holding me up leaning just there turning a fall into a stumble

You enjoy these gentle walks near our home

Part 2: Being Queer and Muslim at NUS BSC Conference 2013

5 pillars and 6 colours

Overheard by a delegate who wishes to remain anonymous:

‘I’m offended Maryam referred to herself as queer and Muslim.’

I must add that conference was not a safe space, so much so that the delegate who overheard this did not feel secure enough to challenge what she heard. It really is a sorry state of affairs when at an NUS event, a Liberation conference and ultimately, a Black Students’ Conference, students feel unsafe to challenge ideas and perceptions but to them.

All too often I come across people who identify as LGBTQ that used to identify as religious too. They felt at such odds with their religion because of how their fellow worshippers behaved towards them because of their sexuality and they felt that the only way to deal with this was to leave their religion even though they still believed in it and ultimately, still believed in God.

The…

View original post 365 more words

Part 1: Debunking criticism about me from NUS BSC Conference 2013

Well worth reading

5 pillars and 6 colours

1. ‘She talks about feminism too much.’
2. ‘She talks too much about LGBT issues.’
3. ‘She needs to talk more about Black issues.’
4. ‘Her politics are dodgy.’
5. ‘NOLS are backing her.’
6. ‘She’s divisive.’

These are just some of the feedback that my campaign team gave me from the NUS Black Students’ Campaign with regards to some people’s perceptions about my candidacy in the Black Students’ Officer elections.

Here are my responses:

1. ‘She talks about feminism too much.’

Feminism is the only antidote to patriarchy. Feminism liberates us all from oppression.

2. ‘She talks too much about LGBT issues.’

Well, I would be worried and expect to receive a severe backlash from Black LGBT students if I didn’t discuss and act on these issues considering I am the LGBT women’s representative on the Campaign’s committee…

3. ‘She needs to talk more about Black issues.’

This suggests…

View original post 607 more words

Motes

A single mote of dust in a room of dreams,
That is what we all belong to, to what we all return.
Colours mean nothing neither green white and gold or red white and blue.
Only the blood that flowed freely matters a burden shared by brothers and sisters.
Bells call the religious to order trudging their way wearily towards oblivion,
Spoon fed lies we dine on poisoned words whilst the privileged wallow in our 
Labours. Solidarity! Together we can change the flow of rivers.

The scaffolding of our past hides the scars of bitter memories,
Towns slowly die whilst Portas fascias gives the illusion
That our high streets blossom, 
The blood of youth drained by lack of a future.
Divisions serve the overlords, keep the masses at bay keening towards our throats,
Like half starved dogs; we crave the masters touch.

Cowered in urine soaked ghettoes.

Walls of peace helped reinforce stereotypes.

All of it lies!
The lord’s of calumny grimace at the thoughts of equality,
Teased with table scraps, manna from heaven,
The hungry masses tear themselves apart.
Every thought digitally encoded to ensure loyalty,
Granted a simulation of freedom,
Unaware of invisible strings,
The puppet masters tease until boredom reeks
Fetid meat, stale sweat and bitter tears.