The Moving Pen | Classic Blog

Classic Blog

Sharing life experiences in style.
Carry the Water

* This piece is a response to Rob Wilcher’s beautiful poem “Carry the Water”.   The stream eddies, as his hand drifts. Tell me. Tell me what it’s like. What I won’t see.   What do I say? Do I tell him of the hot, wet embrace of a lover; the heartache of rejection; the elation of success; or the darkness of failure.   The tears of uncertainty; the conceit …

Read More
couple beach

Jenna could not believe her luck as she followed Jeremy down the sandy wooden path that led to the beach. Was this guy for real? She had never had a date quite like it, never mind a first date! He had arrived to collect her with flowers, the smell of the roses still lingered in her nostrils. He complimented her and held the door open for her as she slid …

Read More
Meeting

They say your life flashes before you when you die. They are wrong. It’s your future you see. Like when you lean down to kiss my curdled cheeks. I see you, my darling. Even in grief you are beautiful. The way your hair still drifts downwards as if drawn by a curiosity of its own. Your sweet lips extended in pert caress as you lean in towards me, the gleam …

Read More
Carry the Water

The boy watched the old man crouched By the pool in the sun stirring the water With an even hand. He was sick And frail and his breath was slight within him. – Soon to be Dead, called the boy, what Do you seek in the water? The old man stirred. – I am stirring some of tomorrow’s burdens In the water, Pain In Your Eyes, so that I may …

Read More
mann2

The shooting started at around 4.30 pm; most of the neighbourhood mothers had herded their kids inside and were probably doing what she was right now, preparing snacks, filling baths. She paused, as did Amber and Rusty. The crack was loud, echoing like whiplash, but it was weird that the main thing she noticed was the sun refracting through the half-open venetian blinds, the way it made haloes around her …

Read More
ShortTranscr

Fred takes one of the nails he holds between his lips and places it against the timber, hammering it home with far more force than is necessary. He does the same with the other nails, bashing them so hard the wood starts to split. Damn it! He affixes the small plaque to the cross, then turning the whole thing upside down, uses his bayonet to sharpen the end to a …

Read More
jonas-allert-mJXfPBzq-XQ-unsplash

“MUM.  Did you send it?” Clara’s twelve-year-old selfishness stole her thoughts … again.  “Are you listening to me?” Her daughter stomped her black stockinged feet against the carpet, hand clasping her phone, lips pouted, eyes wide to the lens as her thumb tapped insistently at the screen. “WELL?” Josie span on her chair, eyes glazed.  “WHAT NOW?” She heard her voice surge across the room to meet her daughter’s surley …

Read More
IMG20211211195138

For Sheila and Roger   Let us go then, you and I, to gape at sunsets spread across the sky, that meld and mold into valleys deep, Let us peer into golden light, as it bends and curls and day becomes night. It’s pathway winds a fluorescent glow, urging me forward; look what is far below: leaf tips catch and bend light’s last rays, I sigh and smile, my day …

Read More
Screen Shot 2022-02-25 at 8.31.44 pm

‘Chintana darling, I’m going to be late tonight.  Please don’t wait up for me.’ ‘Alright Auntie Tok, have a great night.  Don’t drive if you have too much to drink.’ ‘I know and I won’t have more than a couple.  I’m not your age anymore. I wish I were though,’ Tok laughed as she closed the front door. Tok adored her niece Chintana and the feeling was mutual.  Chintana just …

Read More
There is that moment

your father beat you or someone else in the family your mum or one of your siblings,   when the air is thick as custard, and hot like custard and overfed   with terror and grief and pain no matter who took the blows the nettled air stinging pricked skins.   Temptations of the good cluster like scabs on the skin something to pick at while   the spirit of …

Read More