Her eyes looked right through him. A face of porcelain white and hair as black as a winter’s night. He knew he was in trouble even before the blade arced it’s deathly path towards his neck. His final thought was how beautiful they were. Her eyes. She did not blink as the sickle separated his head from it’s torso. Unresolved emotion lay deep inside her, hidden by years of indoctrination. Agents of the Noh felt nothing. They carried out orders. And yet…..

Beautiful Killer

unravels her own life line

by ending others


Written in response to a picture prompt ( a japanse geisha) from Ligo Haibun ( now defunt). This short piece is inspired by a Graphic Novel series by David Mack called Kabuki and I would recommend them (it’s a series) as reading material to everyone.

Deep, profound and insightful writing and amazingly creative artwork.


Life is a Dance

Ligo Haibun Challenge

Photo Challenge:


Footfall  on a forest floor and then stillness. breath swirls in the cold air. movement ahead.stillness shifts to an inner place.pure being. at one with the prey.arrow unleashed finds soft flesh. gratitude offered, a prayer for the fallen. totem left to appease the gods

in spirit we move

dancing our way through the light

to reveal one-ness


One Love

Late to the party this week folks but here is my entry.


“Don’t forget – I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy,
asking him to love her.”

– Notting Hill


He sat in the diner looking as if he were about to slide under the table…a cool kinda angle….arm across the back of the chair…hips slung low…long hair curled around his leather clad shoulders….he sipped from the coffee cup and took a drag on his cigarette. In the background Jim Morrison posed a question…. roaring out with a snarl from the Juke Box. “Who Do You Love?” It got him thinking. Who indeed.? ‘Do I project all of my own insecurities and doubts outward onto some unsuspecting future perfect partner in a vain attempt to fix me? Do I focus my love inward and work with what I have got here already before I open my heart? Do I open myself to the, what did Rumi call him?…The Beloved? Do I just say screw all that and go out there and have some fun? Just love life y’know? What is Love anyway? It’s complicated man’ he thought to himself. Then she walked into the diner.  Long dark raven curls fell either side of her face, bouncing with her deliberate gait. Panther like in her movements, she was tall and powerful. Her eyes smouldered with life and with fire. I am alive, was the message. Fully present and beautiful. She was a Goddess. His rational mind collapsed in on itself and he stared. Long and hard. His heart was beating faster and his breath was shallow. Was this just desire? No. A voice inside him was as clear as a bell. She’s the one.

Heart all a flutter

It seems like the world just changed

now It must be love


Check out the other great Haibun writers below


Samye Ling

The journey towards Eskdalemuir was made all the more pleasurable by the scenery along the way. Early morning mists sitting atop the hills, bathed in a serene kind of light, set the tone for the day for me. It was eminently peaceful, as if the land were whispering a good morning. On arrival at Samye Ling  I was immediately drawn to the golden statue of Tara bathed in bright morning sunlight, sitting in the  Medicine Garden.
Medicine Tara
It had obviously been situated there, facing East,  to catch the early rising rays and it was animated by a glowing luminescence. Almost as if it were dancing. The Victory Stupa sat by a Zen like garden complete with curved bridge and still waters. It was impossible not to notice the serenity. I sat. Just sat.
Reflected Stupa
Brings me to the Buddha Mind
There is only Now.
Victory Stupa
Afterwards I walked clockwise around the Stupa, mindful of the rhythms of the turning Prayer Wheels
Prayer Wheel House
Along from the Stupa lies another pond within which is a wonderful statue of Nagarjuna
Prayer flags flutter in the wind harmonising the elements in both person and environment.
Prayer Flags
The Cloutie Tree offers a chance to make a wish.
The Cloutie Tree
A final stop at the Temple offered me an opportunity to hear the prayers and chants of the Monks and to sit in silence for some time once more. I am aware of a death in the community, one of the founders, and the brother of the sitting Abbot, was killed recently on a visit to China. The pointlessness of this act sits heavily on me as I observe my silence. Such is the world we live in.
Tibetan Temple
The journey back to Wiston was also beautiful, as the dying sun bounced it’s last light of the hilltops, soft, warm and welcoming us home.
The Southern Uplands ~ Photo by Bob Hamilton
There is something about the play of light on the land that is very much about the present moment.
It sings very clearly….This is it.

Magic at Tara

Posted in The Līgo Haibun Challenge

Another day, another challenge. I only managed to submit my Picture (Katmandu) challenge piece yesterday at the last minute and I was amazed how well received it was.

Buoyed by this feeling inside of acceptance and recognition I am jumping straight in with another piece, this time a word prompt.

Although I endeavor to have no expectations, I feel that a fall from Grace must surely now follow 😉

Mirror or Faerie: My choice is Faerie

I stand under a moon so full I can almost touch it. Autumn is merging with winter and the cold air wraps itself like coils of smoke about my fingers. Fingers which hold the Crystal up against the bright lunar sky. The Gatekeeper. The chant rolls out from deep within my being and a call is made to the Fey folk to come and dance with us on this Samhain evening. Within the quartz chamber movement unfolds. A wisp at first and then more form. Before my very eyes a faerie is dancing within the crystal. It is Magic. Pure and simple. I breathe deeply and smell the earth more cleanly than ever before. Peaty and damp, it lines my being. We are one.

~-~   ~-~   ~-~

Echoes of a time

long since dreamed of are sounded

in my heart this night

~-~   ~-~   ~-~


Mr Angry: the conclusion

He found it easy to talk. There was a stillness about her, a knowing and understanding kind of presence. He reviewed the events of the day. The separation talk, the punch, the police station.

She listened well and he appreciated it. When he was done she leaned in and said to him, “I think I can help you”

‘Yeah, sure you can” he answered her sarcastically.

‘I understand your scepticism, but I see with a different set of eyes these days”

She turned her head in my direction. Me, the ghost, the witness. Could she sense my being here?

As if to answer my question, she spoke, whilst maintaining her sightless stare.

“You are not who you think you are”

Mr Angry spoke.

“What do you mean?”

“You are not all there. It is as if a part of you is missing”

Her gaze was still fixed firmly on my position. “Maybe you are hiding a part of yourself ”

Mr Angry looked up. ” Funny you should say that. I have always felt incomplete, unsettled, anxious.  Like I was missing a piece.”

He swallowed a mouthful of Guinness and then rolled his head in a circular motion, cracking stiff vertebra in his neck.

“How can you know that though? We just met”

“Like I said” she clarified, “I see things differently.”  Her gaze had not altered once whilst he spoke.

Her hand whipped out towards me suddenly and I felt myself being pulled. How could this be happening on my first day? No one had said anything about this sort of occurrence. I would be complaining to my supervisor. I was spinning, falling, sliding and then I stopped. Abruptly. It felt like hitting a wall. I lost consciousness.

As I came too I noticed that my perspective had altered and that I felt different. The woman was still looking at me but was smiling.

“Welcome home” she said.

What was she talking about and why was she talking to me?

“Can you see me” I asked.

“Of course” she said, “You have been here all the time. You just didn’t know it”

Didn’t know it? What on earth…..???

She reached across the table and touched my arm……MY ARM!!!!!!!!

I looked down and saw hands, attached to arms, attached to a body…..what was happening? When I scanned the bar I realised Mr Angry was nowhere to be seen. I was sat where he had been sat.

I …..was….. sat…. where…. he…. had…. been…. sat.


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