Eve sees the End by Fianna (Fiona Russell Dodwell)

Eve sees

Eve grew Steve. They grew, Eve n Steve, tended bees; strewed seeds. Every street grew trees; seeded new streets. They expected resentment: Serpent’s sneery eyes between ferns; Keeper’s legs-knees-feet; grey-green jeers.  Elsewhere edgy Emmy hedged her bets, kept fleet feet, met every beetle-creep, sentry-sleep.  Ely’s elders tweeted, begged less greed. Sheets pressed deep red cheeks. Ely’s levees seeped.

The next events were never well remembered: Steve n Eve expelled themselves. They slept between tents; trekked, veered west. The clerks rebelled. Empress Ellen, never there when needed, left the next week. Her greedy cheeks, her greedy feet, her helpmeet Emmy, swept between the elders. The elders were entrenched.  Yet we knew when the defences went; when Ely’s temple fell: fletch-embedded, the Fen Decree flew news.

Few were left end Twenty-Seventeen. Ellen, Emmy, less well-dressed, never meet, knee western streets. Steve and Eve? They settled where they fell; grew fewer trees: these were replete.

Even Stevens

the End    

Tell the Wood by Fianna (Fiona Russell Dodwell)

Flood Phrases by Fianna (Fiona Russell Dodwell)

Branches by Fianna (Fiona Russell Dodwell)

Encounters by Fianna (Fiona Russell Dodwell)

Fast Life by Fianna (Fiona Russell Dodwell

Scream by Fianna (Fiona Russell Dodwell)

A hot red scream
swoops on
a sandstorm tornado,
abrading my cheeks and howling round distant dunes
to obliterate the words you mouthed
beyond this one closed door:
it hasn’t worked; things will have to be re-done.
The ether dripped on gauze, in eyes;
the struggling, the holding down
and
drowning.
The silent masked figures are
in the high white room
oblivious to no and no and no.
I’m forcing myself to swim through murk with weighed-down limbs,
waking as waves of pain
erase my body;
as I struggle to
bear witness
to                                                          ,
to blank eyes I can’t reach,
to anyone familiar
long gone.
No amount of comforting can stop
the presence of that absence;
the fall into the ice-cold
room in the belly of
the scream.

The scream
room, in the belly of
the fall into the ice-cold.
The presence of that absence
no amount of comforting can stop.
Long gone
to anyone familiar,
to blank eyes I can’t reach.
To                                                       –
bear witness,
as I struggle to
erase my body,
waking as white waves of pain.
I’m forcing myself to swim through murk with weighed-down limbs,
oblivious to no and no and no.
In the high white room
the silent masked figures are
drowning.
And
the struggling, the holding down,
the ether dripped on gauze, in eyes –
it hasn’t worked!  Things will have to be re-done
beyond this: one closed door
to obliterate the words you mouthed,
abrading my cheeks and howling. Round distant dunes
a sandstorm tornado
swoops on
a hot red scream.

The Power of Night by Fianna (Fiona Russell Dodwell)

and   casts   it   wide   –   new   energy   sustaining   night.
now she lifts her arms, her darkening cape
bruised blue bruised grey
till it’s a smear of red
breathes it into lungs
into legs, belly
sucks it
she
She sits on the horizon sun cupped between her feet
she
sucks it
into legs, belly
breathes it into lungs
till it’s a smear of red
bruised blue bruised grey
now she lifts her arms, her darkening cape
and   casts   it   wide   –   new   energy   sustaining   night.