30 Friday Apr 2021
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, creative writing, creativity, Fear, Imagination, photography, Poem, poetry, Precious, relationships, spirituality, ~Morgan~
Inspiration comes in many Colours
And Touches our Life in different ways,
But when Creativity is stifled,
Discouraged, or ridiculed,
The Precious metal that once was Bright as Light itself,
Tarnishes and fades
For fear of Shining.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Shimmering Image found at: vienna.swarovski.com
31 Saturday Oct 2020
Posted in Flash Fiction and Shorts
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, Darkness, Death, Fear, Flash fiction, Grave, Halloween, Micro Fiction, spirituality, Thrillers, Whispers, ~Morgan~
.
Weariness overcame me. Darkness spiraled up from the pit of my stomach, engulfing me, pulling me under, surrounding me. I struggled against it, trying to breath in the suffocating murk, but, like a hypnotic spell, I could not resist the tugging blackness encroaching on my thoughts. Sleep leapt upon me, like a tigress with claws bared, sinking them into my flesh, penetrating deeply, inescapable.
Quiet. Blackness. Sinking. Strange sensations scathed over me. Heaviness. Lightness. Breaking through. Crashing in. Calm tranquility mixed with ethereal panic that left me searching the dimness frantically, but for what I did not know. Light? Breath? Heartbeat?
All was silent. All was Dim.
Fear crashed in on me; a thousand boulders tumbling on my body from out of the dingy night sticking to me, pounding over me without mercy and without ceasing, yet I did not fall. There was no pain, only fear devouring me in the darkness. Echoes of thought whispered from the ebon vastness around me; voices once so bright, filled with life, now empty, hollow, soundless.
What happened to the life that was inside me? Where did my vibrancy go? Try as I might, I could not draw a single breath and the sensation of existing without it was terrifying. Brackish water sloshed around my feet, pouring in from the edges of the darkness, splashing upwards in a slow, inescapable progression; yet my feet felt nailed to the place where I stood. Unable to run, I searched the emptiness around me, horrified to watch the slogging water sucking upward around me, encasing me in icy coldness.
Where was the Light? Wasn’t there a Tunnel of Light? What happened to all the preaching and teaching and reaching from Heaven? Shadows began to move in the deep darkness, slinking towards me in a haze that filled me with dread. Sounds like ravenous animals gnawing bones began to filter through to me. Screeches and cackles more horrendous in sound than any tale from the crypt I had ever heard. Insidious laughter mocked my struggles as I fought to escape the unrelenting icy embalmment closing around me.
Then all went silent as a single voice spoke from the darkness staining itself crimson over my head. I listened, aghast at the familiarity of the tone and inflection. It was my own voice. It was me, speaking out of the past to haunt my own soul and as I listened, bitter tears slipped down my pallid cheeks, falling into the freezing water encircling my chest, my neck, sloshing upward over my chin, my nose, consuming me.
“I have everything I could ever want or need. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, more influence than I know how to use, and more friends than I can count. ……………
What do I need God for?”
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Stirring Image by: ariagne-stock at deviantart.com
31 Saturday Oct 2020
Posted in Flash Fiction and Shorts
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, creative writing, Darkness, Fear, Flash fiction, Micro Fiction, Perception, photography, Writing, ~Morgan~
.
In the hollow darkness, nothing felt real. I stood for a protracted moment, waiting for my eyes to adjust while listening with strangely heightened senses for the sound that had led me there. Nothing. Not a single vibration shook the stillness; not the faintest hint of a whisper; nor even the softest sigh. Nothing. The wilting shadows held me captive without chains or manacles, a prisoner within myself, standing alone in absolute nothingness. Then it happened, and all was Lost. My roommate switched on the light.
.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Photograph found on Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer. Thank You~
31 Saturday Oct 2020
Posted in Flash Fiction and Shorts
Tags
50 Word Stories, BnV, BooknVolume, creative writing, Darkness, Death, Fear, ghosts, Micro Fiction, Spirits, ~Morgan~
.
Shadows writhed against the blackness as the echoes of the unremembered cried into the silence. Staring into the flames, we were transfixed; bound through the enigma of what we thought was enrapturing. Little did we know our souls stood still, listening to those we chose to neither see nor acknowledge.
.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Image found on Google. Credit Gratefully acknowledged to the original photographer. Thank You~
31 Saturday Oct 2020
Tags
Beautiful Photographs, BnV, BooknVolume, Cemetary, Darkness, Death, Fear, Graveyard, Halloween, Poem, poetry, Poetry Blog, ~Morgan~
.
Darkness Sings in the Witching hour,
As spectres writhe in Sublime Masquerade,
Witless watching goes unnoticed
While worries and doubt march in Parade;
Shadows spiraling in the ebon void,
Calamity slurking into the Lush Unknown,
Colours fading into blankness
As Daytide waits, muted and prone;
Delicate Splendour reaches in irony
As all that is stale encroaches and bides;
Mists of Memory murmuring mundanely,
As Silence floods in,
A Most Harrowing Tide.
.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Beautiful Original Photography: ‘Ring of Brodgar in the Mist’ by Dominique Brand
31 Saturday Oct 2020
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, Death, Fear, Fog, Halloween, photography, Poem, poetry, Silence, time, Whispers, ~Morgan~
.
Stillness Whispers All Around,
Delicate,
Imperceptible,
Incongruous Sound;
The Hush Speaking softly
Of Another place and Time;
Bending Perception
Through Inharmonious Rhyme.
.
The Fog Enwraps From Every Side,
Closing In,
Drawing Out
An Indiscernible Cry;
The Mist Breathing Blithely,
A Leviathan of Olde;
Enshrouding Inexorably
With Inescapable Cold.
.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Beautiful Photograph found at: .inspiringwallpapers.net. Credit Acknowledged to the Original Photographer. Thank You!
31 Saturday Oct 2020
Posted in Poetry
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, Darkness, depression, Fear, Grief, Halloween, Haunted Places, Memory, Poem, poetry, Poetry Blog, spirituality, ~Morgan~
.
Silence lies thickly
Muted tones of Memory
A dark heavy Cowl
.
To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see The Original Post from Day One
.
Day 353 / 365
.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the Original Photographer. Thank You~
31 Saturday Oct 2020
Tags
Afterlife, BnV, BooknVolume, Darkness, Death, Fear, Halloween, Night, Poem, poetry, Poetry Blog, Shadows, ~Morgan~
.
Bide the hours of Silver Lethargy
Symposium of shadows in swirling haze
Mocking the Glimmers of Brightest daytide
As words and music shrivel and fade
Silence beckons in Silver Lethargy
Whispers Unheard serrating
As Darkness Grasps with manacle claws
And Laughter echoes, Mimicking and Prating
Silver whims and ebon sighs
Leeching from the cowl of night
As heartbeats pause and breath subsides
Waken to Emptiness
Live in Fright!
.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Photograph found on Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the Original Photographer. Thank You~
21 Tuesday Jul 2020
Posted in Poetry
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, Challenging Times, Current Events, Dark Times, Fear, Hatred, Politics, Riots, spirituality, ~Morgan~
.
When shadows fall dark and deep
and echoes of Gladness
weep in reverie,
When callous choices strut with bravado
while Kindness goes unheard,
unseen;
Where anger laughs vitriolic
and Need sleeps empty,
The door stands open for ebon shades
to clutch and tear
while Mercy Keens
.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
This poem was Inspired, in part, by this post
.
Amazing Image created by Ursula88
22 Monday Jun 2020
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Daily Meditations, Dealing with Stress, Dreams, Fear, Human Condition, Inspiration, Interpretation of Dreams, Life Challenges
Those who dream by day
are cognizant of many things
that escape those who dream only at night.
Edgar Allan Poe
.
These days have grown dark and darker. My Spirit is weary of the hatred and noise, the unrest and outrage, the lies and the very great loss all around. Loss of Trust. Loss of Hope. Loss of Love.
What allows us to continue to Dream in such times? Some say Dreams are only misfiring electrical stimuli in our brains. An expulsion of left over energy from the day that our body is shuffling off, but I Believe Dreams are much more. Can a misfiring electrical impulse fill our hearts with Hope? Would a shuffling off of left over energy Inspire and stir us to action? I think not.
Dreams live within us, each hour of every day. They softly whisper, whether we are listening or not. Today, we fill our days with so much other noise we barely notice. Outside electrical stimuli has blinded us to our own internal sources; yet when we finally shut off, when the hours of moonlight and stars hush our rushing haste, our Essence is still able to speak.
Speak through Dreams.
Dreams teach us things we’ve forgotten. They Remind of those who have gone before and places we’ve left behind. They touch us with gentle, and sometimes not so gentle, imagery that leaves us wondering, but do they speak truth or merely prattle nonsense?
I Believe they tell us things we need to remember. They speak about our strengths as well as our weaknesses. They Guide us, or would Guide us, if we allowed them.
I have recurring themes in many of my dreams. I often dream of tidal waves threatening to sweep me and my loved ones away. Or I am driving my car and the brakes fail. I even have a recurring dream about a house that has a witch abiding in the attic whom I fear more than anything else.
Odd? Maybe. But if I take a moment to think about these images, I realize that I dream about waves and being swept away when I’m stressed and over-burdened. Is my body telling me what I’m ignoring so I can better cope with the challenges of the Day? When I dream about my car losing its brakes, is my body whispering that I’m feeling out of control and in danger of being hurt? Is the witch that lives in the attic the dark negativity in my mind that casts spells of fear and suspicion that could bewitch and mislead me?
‘Those who dream by day
are cognizant of many things
that escape those who dream only at night.’
What are your Dreams telling you?
.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Beautiful Original Artwork by: Jim Warren
31 Thursday Oct 2019
Posted in Flash Fiction and Shorts
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, creative writing, Darkness, Fear, Flash fiction, Horror, Spiders, Writing, ~Morgan~
.
Shadows slithered along the deserted alleyway like writhing serpents. I stepped carefully, watching the darkened corners with the penetrating gaze of a terrified animal. Somewhere in the midst of the gloom, the one I sought had hidden himself and coming upon him unawares was perilous in the extreme. Dark tides of time washed across my path, marooning me in a vast ocean of treacherously flickering streetlights. Echoes of the night reverberated down the damp walls lining the backstreet, their shudders mirroring my own as I crept forward with deliberate stealth. A few additional paces and I’d be free, released from the harrowing confinement like a dove set to soar and my heartbeat quickened in anticipation.
It was not to be.
In that brief moment, everything turned upside down. Panic pushed the bounds of my mental and physical limits. Unparalleled terror pitched me into a frenzy of flailing limbs and earsplitting shrieks that scathed through the night like a reprise of the days of Jack the Ripper. I was the embodiment of horror, held captive by the icy grip of fear.
In the chaos, the tarantula crept from beneath a shadow leaching across my path, looked up at me and laughed.
,
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Beautiful Photograph is : Alley_on_a_Foggy_Night_by_jheintz21
31 Thursday Oct 2019
Posted in Flash Fiction and Shorts
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, Darkness, Death, Fear, Flash fiction, Grave, Halloween, Micro Fiction, spirituality, Thrillers, Whispers, ~Morgan~
.
Weariness overcame me. Darkness spiraled up from the pit of my stomach, engulfing me, pulling me under, surrounding me. I struggled against it, trying to breath in the suffocating murk, but, like a hypnotic spell, I could not resist the tugging blackness encroaching on my thoughts. Sleep leapt upon me, like a tigress with claws bared, sinking them into my flesh, penetrating deeply, inescapable.
Quiet. Blackness. Sinking. Strange sensations scathed over me. Heaviness. Lightness. Breaking through. Crashing in. Calm tranquility mixed with ethereal panic that left me searching the dimness frantically, but for what I did not know. Light? Breath? Heartbeat?
All was silent. All was Dim.
Fear crashed in on me; a thousand boulders tumbling on my body from out of the dingy night sticking to me, pounding over me without mercy and without ceasing, yet I did not fall. There was no pain, only fear devouring me in the darkness. Echoes of thought whispered from the ebon vastness around me; voices once so bright, filled with life, now empty, hollow, soundless.
What happened to the life that was inside me? Where did my vibrancy go? Try as I might, I could not draw a single breath and the sensation of existing without it was terrifying. Brackish water sloshed around my feet, pouring in from the edges of the darkness, splashing upwards in a slow, inescapable progression; yet my feet felt nailed to the place where I stood. Unable to run, I searched the emptiness around me, horrified to watch the slogging water sucking upward around me, encasing me in icy coldness.
Where was the Light? Wasn’t there a Tunnel of Light? What happened to all the preaching and teaching and reaching from Heaven? Shadows began to move in the deep darkness, slinking towards me in a haze that filled me with dread. Sounds like ravenous animals gnawing bones began to filter through to me. Screeches and cackles more horrendous in sound than any tale from the crypt I had ever heard. Insidious laughter mocked my struggles as I fought to escape the unrelenting icy embalmment closing around me.
Then all went silent as a single voice spoke from the darkness staining itself crimson over my head. I listened, aghast at the familiarity of the tone and inflection. It was my own voice. It was me, speaking out of the past to haunt my own soul and as I listened, bitter tears slipped down my pallid cheeks, falling into the freezing water encircling my chest, my neck, sloshing upward over my chin, my nose, consuming me.
“I have everything I could ever want or need. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, more influence than I know how to use, and more friends than I can count. ……………
What do I need God for?”
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Stirring Image by: ariagne-stock at deviantart.com
20 Wednesday Feb 2019
Posted in Just Me Musing
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, Daily Meditations, Depeche Mode, depression, Faith, Fear, life, Life Perspectives, Love, spirituality, Suicide, ~Morgan~
.
Depeche Mode is one of my all time favourite bands…hands down, no contest, don’t have to think twice about it. Love Dave Gahan’s delicious baritone, love the synthetic, tribal quality of the music, love Martin Gore’s tremulous tenor, love his gift with words…. but this particular song has always made me sad. Not because of the obvious reasons though, not because the girl dies or because the poor mother is grief-stricken, (sorry, spoiler alert!) but because Martin, David, and perhaps more than a good share of the audience, doesn’t seem to hear the Miracle contained in the lyrics.
First, if you are unfamiliar with the song, Blasphemous Rumours, then you should take a moment to listen to it before continuing on…(just a suggestion, really)
Sad tale? Yes. God vindictive and unfair? Not likely. Why not? How I can possibly say not? Look at it from another angle:
Sad Girl is lost, alone, hurting, who knows why, we aren’t told. She thinks life is too hard and doesn’t want to go on trying, so she makes the ultimate final attempt, but she doesn’t succeed. (“Thank the Lord for small mercies”..to quote the song.) She fails at failing. It takes time to recover, years, but she comes to the ultimate realization that LOVE is all around her; beautiful, joyful, ever-present, guiding, protecting…like a parent who cares unconditionally, or a best friend who never gives up on you, or like your most precious pet, who adores you unreservedly. She finally understand this LOVE and is Happy.
Suddenly, her time is up. No one can control our finiteness, life is brief. It seems like such a tragedy, especially since she only just found LOVE, but it’s not a tragedy, it’s a Miracle. Had she died without realizing how much LOVE is around her, inside her, watching over her, caring for her, she may never have been happy and she would have died, alone, bitter, lost forever in that pit of despair.(because I believe we go on afterward into what we value, create and share here on earth in this life….but that is another post altogether) …yet because she failed at failing, she succeeds.
She heard the Miracle.
So yes, very sad song, but not for the reasons you thought…
~Morgan~
.
Exceptional music written and performed by Depeche Mode.
10 Sunday Feb 2019
Tags
Acceptance, BnV, BooknVolume, Character Sketch, Dark Fey, Epic Fantasy, Fantasy, Fantasy Books, Fear, relationships, Social Awkwardness, Trust, Understanding, ~Morgan~
.
Ayla is one of the lead characters of Dark Fey. She was present in my thoughts from the initial dream that Inspired the story; yet she is very often misunderstood by readers. Although the story could not progress without her, even I find myself frequently annoyed by her overly emotional volatility, so I decided to give my readers a bit of background about her, as well as, perhaps, an explanation. Continue reading
31 Wednesday Oct 2018
Posted in Flash Fiction and Shorts
Tags
BnV, BooknVolume, Darkness, Death, Fear, Flash fiction, Grave, Halloween, Micro Fiction, spirituality, Thrillers, Whispers, ~Morgan~
.
Weariness overcame me. Darkness spiraled up from the pit of my stomach, engulfing me, pulling me under, surrounding me. I struggled against it, trying to breath in the suffocating murk, but, like a hypnotic spell, I could not resist the tugging blackness encroaching on my thoughts. Sleep leapt upon me, like a tigress with claws bared, sinking them into my flesh, penetrating deeply, inescapable.
Quiet. Blackness. Sinking. Strange sensations scathed over me. Heaviness. Lightness. Breaking through. Crashing in. Calm tranquility mixed with ethereal panic that left me searching the dimness frantically, but for what I did not know. Light? Breath? Heartbeat?
All was silent. All was Dim.
Fear crashed in on me; a thousand boulders tumbling on my body from out of the dingy night sticking to me, pounding over me without mercy and without ceasing, yet I did not fall. There was no pain, only fear devouring me in the darkness. Echoes of thought whispered from the ebon vastness around me; voices once so bright, filled with life, now empty, hollow, soundless.
What happened to the life that was inside me? Where did my vibrancy go? Try as I might, I could not draw a single breath and the sensation of existing without it was terrifying. Brackish water sloshed around my feet, pouring in from the edges of the darkness, splashing upwards in a slow, inescapable progression; yet my feet felt nailed to the place where I stood. Unable to run, I searched the emptiness around me, horrified to watch the slogging water sucking upward around me, encasing me in icy coldness.
Where was the Light? Wasn’t there a Tunnel of Light? What happened to all the preaching and teaching and reaching from Heaven? Shadows began to move in the deep darkness, slinking towards me in a haze that filled me with dread. Sounds like ravenous animals gnawing bones began to filter through to me. Screeches and cackles more horrendous in sound than any tale from the crypt I had ever heard. Insidious laughter mocked my struggles as I fought to escape the unrelenting icy embalmment closing around me.
Then all went silent as a single voice spoke from the darkness staining itself crimson over my head. I listened, aghast at the familiarity of the tone and inflection. It was my own voice. It was me, speaking out of the past to haunt my own soul and as I listened, bitter tears slipped down my pallid cheeks, falling into the freezing water encircling my chest, my neck, sloshing upward over my chin, my nose, consuming me.
“I have everything I could ever want or need. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, more influence than I know how to use, and more friends than I can count. ……………
What do I need God for?”
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Stirring Image by: ariagne-stock at deviantart.com
Recipes showing step by step directions with pictures and a printable recipe card.
Invisible lines associating ideas, creating images.
eBook Store
Fantasy Book Reviews Online
A Discovery of Enlightening Insights, Information, Humor, Writings and Musings
Just another WordPress site
Astral Lucid Music - Philosophy On Life, The Universe And Everything...
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
Get Latest Worldwide Updates and News about Food, Travel, Sports, Trading and Lifestyle.
