Thursday, 31 May 2018

Winter's party

First of June
Winter is knocking at the door
He's brought with him
Jack Frost of ill repute
High on his heels
Impatient to freeze all 
He touches with his cursed gift
Bringing with him
Unwanted vermin
Spiders, mice and rats
Looking for shelter
And free food
All gate crashers
Of winter's party.

Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved

Saturday, 26 May 2018

Labyrinthine mood



The labyrinth changes mood
With the shadows of the day
Drawn by its pull
To follow the circuitous path
Enter at own risks
Trust is important
For eventually leading somehow
To the inner sanctum
Rest there in safety 
As long as necessary
When it's time
Turn around
Retracing steps to the exit
Walking out, be grateful 
Salute the sun and the world.

Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved

Wednesday, 23 May 2018

Kitchen brigade

Don't mess with the lady, 
She's a dangerous lass
From a steel thermos
A milky explosion she'll create
By pretending it's a shaker
And prepare 
An exotic cocktail
Russian Molotov flavour
By the sound of it!

The other known member
Of that kitchen brigade
A blond with green eyes
Offers a coffee to her victims
Lets the Italian expresso
Run dry on the stove
An explosion follows presto
A neat trick if any!

So ladies and gentlemen
If one of them offers you 
A drink where steel implements
Are required
Ask simply for a glass of water
It may save your life!

Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved

Thursday, 17 May 2018

Chest in the attic - ghost

Chest in the attic - ghost
I went to my bedroom, the room my mum kept so clean it didn't belong to me. I was not allowed to put posters on the walls, all my books where tidy in the bookshelf, classed in alphabetical order. I looked around me, there was nothing I was tempted to take away with me. The door opened on my mum bringing a mug full of smelly vapours. " drink this, it will keep the ghosts away".
There was no way I was going to drink this lethal  herbtea. After all my mum was a killer.
I'm fine, mum, really. I just want to rest a bit.
Well, young man, when the dreams come, you'll be pleased to find it. There you see, I put it on your bedside table. Have a good rest. 
With that she left me to my own.
Gingerly I poured the mug down the toilet in the ensuite, I didn't want to be drugged at best, nor to be rendered Inconscious, nor worse be a victim of a satanic ritual.
True I was bugged, I put myself to bed to think about what I was going to do.
I couldn't think straight, again and again and again I could see that tattoo in my mind. Each time it was getting bigger and larger until it felt my mind was the tattoo itself.
I heard slow steps coming up to my door, they stopped. The door handle turned slowly, the door opened to let a black shape entering my room. It looked like a lady totally in solid black , the figure' s veils were solid not transparent.
It kept coming towards me, I was awake , crawling slowly in my bed toward the wall for a refuge. It kept coming towards me. I was suffocating, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't shout, I was frozen, I couldn't move. It raised its arms, its black gloved hands went to my throat and started to squeeze. I couldn't struggle, as I was loosing consciousness I heard it: follow me and meet, the witch, your parents stole the tattoo from. 
I seemed to detach myself from my body which stayed in bed, I was dragged by the dark ghostly figure. Somehow she took me through the corridor, down the steps into the hall, and opened the door to no known world I knew. The suburbia had disappeared with its row of front gardens and parked cars in favour of a stormy dusky sky, a dead bleached tree was standing there in the middle of a no man land. 
When suddenly a band of screaming harpies carrying heads of decapitated people on spikes, surrounded us , dancing, shouting, squanding ,asking us to give them back their queen, their lovely queen, their delightful queen. Their dance around us became frantic by the moment, stomping the ground would describe it more adequately. If I had been in my physical body I'm sure I would have wetted myself, if you see what I mean, I was terrorised. Screaming their heads off" give it back, give it back",
" we want her, we want her".
It had turned into a hellish bacchanale, some of them were licking the oozing  blood from the heads on their spikes, drums were emitting a drunken rhythm to which they all swayed, turning on themselves like mad dervishes. Blood madness was reflected in their empty eye sockets.
I was watching this ghost brigade not sure if I would ever see my mum and dad again. My terrible parents, how they made the world safe.  A powerful longing to see them, to hug them again overtook me. I was sobbing in earnest, big fat tears running down my Etheric  cheeks, when suddenly, I heard my mum saying in her warm rich voice, there, there, there, who was it who didn't drink my soothing potion. There, there, there, you're safe, give me kiss now! 
You know what, I did and hugged her for dear life. 

Lucette C. Bailliet 
All rights reserved

He does not know me

He is my father, yet
He does not know me:
He is surprised
When in answer to his query
About the work I do,
I tell him I am retired.
He still sees me 
As a young woman.
He is my father, yet 
He does not know me.
He is surprised
When in answer to his query
About when I left,
I tell him I've lived longer here
Than in my native land.
He is my father, yet
He does not know me.
He regrets deeply 
To have missed seeing me
Growing up, 'Twas his choice
Now it's too late.
He  is my father, yet
He does not know me.

Lucette C. Bailliet 
All rights reserved

He does not know me

He is my father, yet
He does not know me:
He is surprised
When in answer to his query
About the work I do,
I tell him I am retired.
He still sees me 
As a young woman.
He is my father, yet 
He does not know me.
He is surprised
When in answer to his query
About when I left,
I tell him I've lived longer here
Than in my native land.
He is my father, yet
He does not know me.
He regrets deeply 
To have missed seeing me
Growing up, 'Twas his choice
Now it's too late.
He  is my father, yet
He does not know me.

Lucette C. Bailliet 
All rights reserved

Friday, 11 May 2018

Entourage

There is so much more
Than canvas and paint 
In this painting.
Time, energy, commitment 
Are only the beginning.
Each touch on the canvas
Is painstakingly thought, dedicated, 
Determined, defined individually
Although part of the all.
For everything is connected
This dot goes there
By the side of that dot
For it belongs in that group 
Linked by that colour 
Defining a separate flow
Dividing while giving identity
To the next group by simple contrast
They're not the same outside
But are of the same nature
Simply coloured differently
They all make an harmonious World 
Where everything has a place,
A role, a function, a life, a world.
For that is what it represents
Ultimately humanity takes shape,
Settling in the time continuum
Making it an universal principle.

Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved

Labyrinth

One, two stones
You've got a line.
Two parallel lines
You've got a path.
A path wandering
To and fro
You've got a labyrinth 
Follow it, 
You've got a journey
Thus paralleling life
You may arrive 
To a dead end
Turn around 
You've got to figure it
You're on the way out.

Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved

The chest in the attic

The chest in the attic 2

"So come down now, you know your mother, when she says lunch is ready, lunch is ready". He led me out of the attic, locked the door behind him, put the key in his pocket. 
In the kitchen mum was already pacing up and down, on the war. Path. We sat down hurriedly. 
" another five minutes and you would have had to pick up your lunch from the Bin. You  have to respect the work of others. I'm not here to serve you. Is that clear?" Said mum in her clipped voice, the one which made you do what she ordered without any discussion.
It was clear, I and dad nodded and begun to eat in silence.
"So what's up? what was the delay about? " she added in a normal voice. With an evident sigh of relief, dad declared "he found the chest in the attic"
" did he open it? " she asked quickly glancing towards me
"No, I didn't , it was closed, I swear" . One didn't lie to mum, it was better to own it.
"What do we do now? " My father asked her.
" while I was waiting for both of you, I had a reading : the Tower came out, first. I understand now why, followed by the Magician, the Moon, the Star and the Wheel of Fortune. We have to tell him".
"But he is so young" retorted my dad.
Somehow I knew instantly that I would not like what they were going to show me.
"I know, but there you are! go and get it" she added to my father.
While he was gone, she put things away, and tidied up the kitchen, she told me: "it is best that we guide you on the path, all together instead of having to fight all alone to grasp the truth, it will avoid you so many mistakes. "
Her words sounded ominous suddenly, it felt like a yoke had been fitted around my neck, I knew I was no longer  free .
Dad came back in the kitchen with the chest under one arm, a pair of red gloves, a black square of silk which he laid carefully on the cleaned table .
Mum lighted some stick incense and started to sing using only her breathing.
When she finished she took a small golden key from a knotted leather ribbon that was around her neck, passed it to dad. "We will not be disturbed, Open it " she told him pointing to the chest. 
Quietly with determination he inserted the key, turned it, looked at her "are you sure?"
She looked at me and added " the time has come, you have the right to know. There is a price for knowledge. In your case, at your age it is silence. You must never speak of what we are going to show you to anybody not initiated. You may think that it is a light sentence, but betrayal would have serious consequences. Am I making sense? Do you understand? If you are not sure, we will stop immediately, it is not a punishment. At this moment the path is opened, for a short time, we may close it at our convenience. To continue on the path, your first step will lead to a loss of innocence, to a loss of your childhood, do you understand? The choice is yours , do you wish to continue or stop?" 
Excitement had been growing inside my mind, I had realised that I was to be welcomed in their group of adult wizards and witches, for yes that was what my parents were about. Rituals day and night for the slimmest pretexts, calling protection for any endeavour. I couldn't stop myself, dammed be my innocence, I wanted to know. 
I nodded once, she repeated : do you wish to continue? Speak aloud, please.
"I wish to continue " I answered in a small voice,
Once again she asked the same question: "for the last time, do you wish to continue?"
"Yes, I wish to continue! " This time my voice was in control, and sounded more determined than I really felt.
She picked up the red gloves , handed them to me , "put them on then", she ordered .
My father slowly pushed the chest towards me, he nodded to me, positioning himself behind my mother, embracing her.
When I touched the chest a thrill ran down my spine, I looked at them silently, they waited in silence watching me. Slowly carefully I lifted the lid, the hinges didn't put any resistance .
Resting on a red cushion was a rolled scroll with three Crimson ribbons making sure it kept its form. So that was it, a parchment with ribbons. What a disappointment!
I looked up to my parents, " what now?" 
" you can open it, be careful it is fragile" Said my father .
I took the scroll in my hand, and untied the ribbons. The scroll unrolled itself as it became free. Inside de the scroll constrained by it , was a piece of material I never seen before the like of . There was a drawing of a blue Pegasus, on top of a pink unicorn. I laughed at the design. " what is it? " I asked my parents, " what does it means?" I felt truly let down, by it all. I have Often considered my parents beliefs silly at best , stupid the rest of time. And obviously this one was one of these. 
"This is your first test, you have to find a meaning that you can relate to. What I can add though , to help you, this is the proof of how evil a witch can be. " my mum said.
"What this? A rude drawing of a winged horse screwing a unicorn? " I replied lightly!
"Not any drawing, dear. The witch was killed and skinned for it. This is the tattoo she wore on her back while dispensing "justice".
"Are you telling me this is a piece of human skin?" I dropped the open scroll, it fell on the table, and rolled itself back."
"Knot the ribbons carefully, now, it wants to be secreted again". Said my father in a hushed tone.
I obeyed, put the lot back in the chest and closed the lid. 
" you may now lock it" continued my father.

So many questions were swirling in my head, I was dizzy by it all, I couldn't hold my head anylonger. 
Had my honest to god parents killed ? murdered? dismembered someone? What had that person done to deserve such a fate? No wonder, they were a cagey lot, if this was true. Yes, I had lost my innocence! Yes, I couldn't speak to anyone about this. 
My parents had never lied to me, true . But killers? I couldn't believe it. 
I heard suddenly my mother voice, " you see, how overcome he is. It is too much for him . He needs sometime to think about it, get some rest for the moment" she was saying to my father. 
" go to your bedroom, we will talk later" 
I had only one idea, to run away from this place, I didn't want to learn anymore. My beloved parents had morphed from fiddling idiots to hard criminals.  That chest was a real Pandora box! 


Lucette C. Bailliet 

All rights reserved











Dirty socks, a diamond earring and a phone charger.



I'm sick of it,
Of that message tinkling bell 
Interrupting my thoughts
Once again.

I need to have the phone on
Waiting for that message
That will fix my book cover.
 
A ring, I pick it up, 
No, it's only trivia
I pick up a dirty sock 
Lying on the floor,
And put the phone inside
That's much better.

I pick up the other sock 
Better to keep them in pairs 
Don't you think?
There's a bump in it
I wonder what is it.

Shaking the sock
A diamond earring
I've been looking for
Slides on the table.
Dirty socks are so useful!

After some time 
Silence, pure silence,
Uninterrupted silence
Came up from the phone in the sock
The battery ran flat.
I need the phone charger
Where did it go?
In another dirty sock maybe.

Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved