Tag Archives: books

Black Capricorn Day

By now you know the world and all it’s ways
In your ripped up jeans that just about hold up dreams
and aspirations, you stay
running into realizations and epiphanies
and violence in the city like you got nine lives
thinking you can overcome lousy luck
with liquid luck and a really long drive,
your choice is rum and mine is wine
and sippin on em we slip on memories
do you remember the time
your head was down for a couple days
cause you lost your job and the rent for the place you stay
coming face to face with this ikkle thing called fate
was really testing you, raising questions in you
contemplating changes you could make
Can you really spend your life this way
Coming off aggressively or too apprehensively
I suggestively have my say,
thats it’s easier to express Black Capricorn Days
than squeeze rhymes out of days that go your way
imagine all the lines left unsaid
If Monday to Sunday was comfortably comfy
and the mental thoughts of aligning in the stars
didn’t leave you hungry
if you stopped judging the cover you might discover
that’s how the books meant to be read,
In your ripped up jeans that just about hold up dreams
perhaps here’s where you’re meant to have stepped
so mornings evolve into rolling out of bed
with a battered up back and a clear head,
steady your vision your climb,
from corners and streets picking up pace
and peace of mind, unwind
into the futile notion you could be up there too
with every other solar source aligned,
looking back down on Black Capricorn Days

Lei e Taormina – Start A Short Story

I started a short story this week – Lei e Taormina be sure to check it out. If you are unsure about starting a short story or where to begin see the post I wrote a few weeks back Start a Short Story. If you have any questions feel free to ask me or reach me on email. taormina1

Also If any of you are trying to learn code or move onto self-hosting codeacademy.com is really helpful. It will simplify html and css for you by giving examples and exercises to work through. You don’t have to complete them all, you can just skip to the section you want to learn if you’re pushed for time but its good to get the basics. If anyone has any other suggestions please share. I went into full geek mode and did the first seven hour lesson pretty much straight but it’s satisfying when you get something and it makes sense. Good luck :D

 

Lei e Taormina

 

taormina

Whatever evil may fall upon you, it must be respected. Only once it is respected can it be warded away by Cornicello. The symbol of The Horns sacred to the Old European Moongoddess alone can protect the bearer from ill fate and danger, Malocchio. For generations, fathers have passed the emblem down to their sons, should they have daughters, they are kept by the mothers in the imponderable place where mothers keep things, and passed on to their daughters sons.

Air rushed passed Nina’s face as her body ran against the way of the wind, yet she struggled to catch her breath. Satin cloths and basil leaf chains hanging from herb stalls flung up in flurry as she raced through the crowded streets of the marketplace. At five second intervals she glanced behind, eyes darting in and out of colors and people. She reached the fresh fruit stall where she had worked two years earlier, and slipped into saftey between its frames, its canopay roof cloaking her identity. Breathing heavily, she peered into the opening and glanced from left to right. There was no sign of them.
She had become very good at this, existing without being noticed, escaping without a trace, vanishing into thin air, so much so that she was slightly scared to admit to herself that she enjoyed the rush of it all. Clutching the tiny golden charm on the end of her necklace, Nina silently thanked Cornicello for keeping her safe. She tugged at the blonde wig that was now heavy on her head, stripped off her white cotton shirt and ditched both behind the boxes of uva and uncut anguira.

She started the walk to the edge of the market, where the court walls stop and the drop to the edge of the Sarema cliffs began. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a handful of fresh rosy cherries. At seven years old she had rationalized that pick pocketing was only a problem if you got caught. More often than not the sellers could afford to loose the small handful of fruit that would otherwise be left for the pigeons at the end of the day, and she could keep her reputation of being a good Catholic girl. She the sucked the juice out of the last one and threw the pip on the ground, hitting something metal. There it was. Her bike, right where she had left it three days earlier.

© elenaxtina.com, 2015 in Lei e Taormina

Hey Guys – I’ve given myself a new project to work on, hopefully I can grow the original idea to see what happens. For my own protection I can’t post anymore content from Skies Over a Shanty Town but I hope you guys enjoyed where that went. Perhaps one day there will be possibility to read more!

Also I am off to Sicilia soon so I’m kinda fantasizing about it. I haven’t been back for the longest time and I wish I was on the plane now. Whenever I travel stories just happen in my head so hopefully this is gonna help, especially this thread, to take form and grow with new ideas. One thing I love about writing is that it’s possibilities are endless, the best fiction is stuff that doesn’t happen in everyday life, or every day life communicated in a way that no one has thought of before. It’s magical, and means you can be inspired by almost anything.

 

Solar Systems

Emmy wished she could sit in the courtyard after sundown and look upon the earth’s ceiling, sink into the solar system. She could barley see the sky from her bedroom. Abuela was forever reminding her that she should be grateful for her bendiciones (blessings). The fact that she had a roof over her head was far more important than staring up at an invisible one. More than being told she had to make something of herself, Emmy was constantly reminded by her Mother and Grandmother that she had come from nothing. So the small latch window which permitted only fragments of light and swirls was simply that, something better than nothing.

Growing up she had listened to stories about the days when abuela and mother had scrambled for food, how they had built their home with their bare hands. It was usually on a Sunday afternoon, when all the Feijoada had been eaten and the pack of cards put away. A gentle silence would fall over the room until one of her only two elder relatives filled the space with reminiscent words. Sometimes she felt guilty for all these things she had that she had never worked for, that she often took for granted, somehow they disconnected her from her family and yet still made her different from everybody else. She lived with a generation that refused to accept the world they had once belonged to was gone, yet belonged to one that refused to acknowledge any reality past or present, besides their own.

Emmy rolled over onto her front and reached to the dresser for her sketchbook and favored 525 grey shading pencil that she had stolen from the Art room at school. She flipped to her sketch of the courtyard sweeper, thickened his outline, smudged the patchwork pattern on his flat cap and gently blackened his pupils. She liked to draw on her bed because it was comfy and sitting upright reminded her of being in class. Being proper in any sense of the word was something she was not, and pretending otherwise was too much like hard work. Brushing a handful of canary curls off her face, she led the pencil tip to the top of the page and begun etching above the sweepers head, creating the cosmic world as she imagined it.

© elenaxtina.com, 2015 in Skies over A Shanty Town