the cosmic rite...

it was an ancient dream
borne in dark primal screams
of bones wrapped tight
in purest white
a thousand moons ago
last night
and the elders sat
in long black braids
neatly wrapped in wisdom’s ways

silent tongues speak
teaching me
the messenger comes

walls of snow
times four
then he walked tall
through the door
white on white on red
he was the one
the wise ones said
who came to me
to set me free
to take me home
no more my soul
to roam
and in his sight
i saw the light
it was an ancient dream
borne in dark primal screams
as spirits took flight
in cosmic rite
a thousand moons ago
last night
.

.

.

the bleeding...

i have lost my voice
in lands long gone
tongue of red
skin of white
o beloved deer
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my hearing
in sounds of death
ears of stone
cast to the winds
o beloved bison
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my sight
in warriors slain
eyes of love
turned to fright
o beloved child
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my touch
in muskets drawn
hands of gore
take their toll
o beloved land
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my soul
in skin of white
bleeds red
through the black night
o beloved tribe
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

my
heart
bleeds

red
.
.
.

cries of the jungle...

clandestine love in the night

heated whispers brush my face
you become me in black and white
and love becomes more in this dark dark place
as flames are lit in this sacred rite

clandestine love in the night
 
echoes of lust sear our fate
as voices beseech a lascivious wait
words plant deep in fertile flesh
while dappled shadows do us enmesh

clandestine love in the night

reality blurs in shades of grey
o’ glorious love i do thee pray
as silent breaths hush the chanting choir
grey becomes red in the midnight fire

clandestine love in the night
elephants roar as gazelles take flight
all becomes quiet in the hot jungle night
and dreams become our singular plight

clandestine love till the mornin’ light
.
.
.
.
.

dancers of the lavender...

we dance into
the lavender light
as the night moves
between our fevered hips
and cries of the jungle
weave our dream

o dancers
of the lavender night

hold close the stars
upon your burning breasts
as the moon swims
between your fevered lips
and cries of the jungle
fly you free

and the night moves
and the jungle cries
and the moon swims
and the jungle flies

you

into
the lavender night

o dancers
of the lavender light

dance
dancers
dance

~

red sun setting...

it was the time

of white stars shining

the spring of the deep forest dent

when sadness settled in

like the gods' seven signs

and the screaming storms

filled the canyons tall

                                                      and the deer ran wild
                                                      and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
of the red sun setting
the summer of all hell bent
when sorrow sprang up
through the orange trumpet vine
and the bleeding clouds
filled the rivers red
                                                      and the deer ran wild
                                                      and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
of red leaves falling
the autumn of anguish
when agony rolled in
like a cancer’s sick slime
and the blistering hail
filled the white devils’ pail
                                                     and the deer ran wild
                                                     and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
of the pale moon rising
the winter of discontent
when grief reigned down
on the green mountain pine
and the howling winds
filled the barren skies
                                                   and the deer ran wild
                                                   and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
the time of                                 white stars shining
                                                   pale moon rising
                                                   red leaves falling
                                                   red sun setting
it was the time
the time when                           white on red maliciously tread
                                                  red on red no longer bred
                                                  red and red no longer red
and the
red son met                               the spring of the deep forest dent
                                                  the summer all hell bent
                                                  the autumn of anguish
                                                  the winter of discontent
and the red sun set

it was the time
the red sun set                         and the deer no longer ran wild
                                                 and the buffalo roamed no more
it was the time
of the red son
                                                 no more
and the red sun
set
.

 

night song...

night songs sung in
blue velvet time
seas open wide
their cryin’ eyes
washin’ away
lost love’s grime
as hands reach out
in languished love
and love burns down
to chared remains
nothin’s the same
without
you

.

.

.

i will forget you...

i will forget you

i will forget you
every morning as the sun forgets to shine
i will forget you
every night as the stars forget to sparkle
and i will forget you
as the moon forgets to rise in blue velvet
i will forget you

i will forget you
then

.

.

.

the dance...

and cranes took flight
to the morning light

and the red sun shone
o’er the mountains steep
strands of love

cut from the skein

 and the pale moon rose
o’er the jungle deep
a white rhino
glistenin’ in the rain

 

and the tin stars froze
in their slumber keep
as flamingos pranced
in silent campaign

and the night winds sang
in shades of blue
threadin’ their kites
in silver dew

and i kissed the day
your lips came to stay

and we danced
the dance
of love’s
last

chance

.

.

.

THE BLUE JAR - TO BE RELEASED BY PLUM TREE BOOKS

After a party, sixteen-year-old Fran accepts a ride from Chesnie's brother, and her life changes forever.  She leaves her parents and her boyfriend to live with her best friend's grandmother at the edge of a woods.  In the woods, the girls practice a secret ritual to exorcise the memory of what happened that night.  Would the magic work?  Maybe, but not in the way either girl expected.  Fran must do battle not only with her own demons but with Chesnie's also, as she tries to forget that fateful ride home.  But Fran still wants to keep her best friend, even as Chesnie becomes obsessed with revenge.

This first book of Ms. Pelrine-Bacon, The Blue Jar, a young adult novel, is scheduled for release by Plum Tree Books in October 2013.

* * * * * * * * *

Marta Pelrine-Bacon writes modern fairy tales and makes art from the printed pages of those tales.  

Where Marta grew up - on a long stretch of road in central Florida - her father told her a witch lived in the abandoned house under a cluster of punk trees, and moss and hot air balloons carried Santa's elves overhead.  Their own house faced a lake big enough for an island in the middle where blackbirds settled for the sunset.  For her, Florida was a perfect place to develop an interest in sharp objects and shadowy places.  She says that is why she writes stories with odd twists, turns and edges.

She was born in the Sunshine State.  Her maternal grandmother moved there in the 1920s.  Her father moved there in 1959.  That's hardly any history at all.  Except in Florida, that's a lot!  But she left home at 17 to study English and writing in Indiana, and she followed that with her Master's Degree from Kent State University.  To see something else of the world, she joined the Peace Corps and taught English in Bulgaria for two years.  One way or another, she has always written and made art.

According to Marta, she writes because stories well up in her brain.  She would go mad if she didn't let them out.  While her past inspires her stories, her stories are not her past, and she is not her characters.  Characters come to her in images, and she writes to discover why they are doing what they do.  

If you take a look at her art, all the words in the pictures you see are from her novels and stories.  The images are not representational of the writing but are images she likes and finds compelling, and perhaps the images capture the mood of the words.

The author/artist also works with other people's words.  She created a CD cover and insert art for John Zainea and the Mania's album, Summer of One-Thousand Seeds, using the lyrics and notes.  She has also used favorite poems or words in other made-to-order pieces and pieces for fundraisers.  Her work has been shown three times over three years at Genuine Joe's Coffee House in Austin and two years at Art City Austin.  It has appeared in Onomatopoeia Mazagine and has been featured over at 7 Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  NPR's series "In Character" selected a short piece on her love of Dorothy Gale, and a fairy tale she wrote appeared in the May 2011 issue of Scheherezade's Bequest.  One of her flash fiction pieces appeared in the online journal 50 to 1.  Currently, Ms. Pelrine-Bacon is the graphics artist/illustrator for Plum Tree Books.

Art, Marta believes, can be made anywhere by anyone.  Make something.  She also believes in writing whether or not anyone is reading.  But if you are reading, she thanks you!

Marta will soon finish chemo treatment and embark on the adventures of being post-cancer.  For 17 years, she has lived and continues to live happily every after with her husband, son and three dogs in Texas.

* * * * *

lost at sea...

thunder on the mountain
fire down below
storm clouds
gather
in my
love
weary
soul

days turn to nights and
nights turn to hell
nothing been
the same
since
i
fell

in the oceans of
your eyes
the depth
of which
the
gods
belie

sucked down deep in
the currents strong
lookin’ at you
was what
 

i
done
wrong

.

.

.

and the band plays on...

elephant tusks rip
through the dark blue night

as your fingers part
my red red seas
lifting up the me of me
love flows up
and love flows down
washin’ away
those sacred sounds

throughout this holy
of holy nights
my crimson plight
too late to shut
the gilded gate
my fatal fate
as the band plays on

and elephant tusks rip
through the dark blue night

tearing lost dreams apart
as wind songs track
the cries of my heart

and red eyes shred reality
on the hard dried plains
of wilted hopes
and stark finality

as elephant tusks rip
through the dark blue night

and the lion roars
and herons take flight
taking with them
your precious light

and i become
a liquid dream
in aphrodite’s ancient scheme
leaving me alone
with just my screams

elephant tusks rip
through the dark blue night

and the band plays on
.
.
.
 

reigning grief...

o the rains came
         and the heavens sang
                and the grief poured down
                         all them hills
                                like a big oil spill
                                         makin’ them wish
                                                 they’d all drown
and the night bird flies
         and the silent skies
                   turn blackest black
                                 takin’ up all that salient slack
                                            ain’t no light around
                                                       no savin’ grace to be found
then the earth opens wide
           with nothin’ to hide
                      just time to eat
                                 too late now to
                                            grovel at her feet

o the rains came
and the heavens sang
and the grief poured down

o reigning grief

amen
.
.
.

seasons...

your eyes traced my lips
as they opened like a
rose’s bloom waking
in a spring
shower

and your fingers shouted
the sounds of silence
as they danced
into my
heart

and your mouth devoured
the silken threads
i could not
speak

and the skies spread wide
and the rains came
and the earth
danced

on that hot summer day
when first
i knew
you

when your eyes
traced
and
your fingers
shouted
and
your mouth
devoured

me
.
.
.

o holy holy...

unholy days of mine

when i found you
my spirit hungered
chewed to the core of
my soul’s bones
my thirst rampant
raged through
rusted tunnels
of wasted yesterdays
my life dark
under blackened sun
obliterated moon
sawdust stars

unholy days of time
 
when i found you
my eyes blinded
belied reality
my lips parched
by love’s skeleton
held no succor
my ears deaf
silenced by sin
my voice mute
lost in searing screams

unholy days of then

when i found you
hands no longer held
arms no longer reached
feet no longer climbed
self no longer sang
when i found you

unholy days
unholy time
unholy then

when i found you
i was found

o holy love
o holy

holy
.
.
.

o heart of mine...

o aching heart
that found you once
tied as you were
in a web of woe
and loved you more
than life could bear
and out of love
set you free
to live in dignity

love divine

o breaking heart
that loved you so
and loves you still
and always will
to find you cut
those ties that bind
and walked away
had i but known
i would have stayed

love of mine

o broken heart
rigid with regret
how can i now
e’re forget
what i had
and what i did
had i known then
what i know now
i would have

yes
i would have

 

o heart
of mine

broken
twice

.

.

.

cobwebs and shadows...

cobwebs woven
in strands of time
wonderin’ when
you’ll ever be mine

and egrets soar
from my ocean’s dry floor

shadows spilled
from bodies’ drawn blood
dripping down
from love’s fiery flood

and flamingos fly
from the curves of my thighs

and lightening strikes
to the earth below
setting fire in
a crimson glow

and lions roar
from the depths of my core

then moonlight moans
its song so sad
in sweet sweet rays
all golden clad

and egrets soar
and flamingos fly
and lions roar

through cobwebs woven
in strands of time
knowin’ now
you’re already mine
.
.
.
 

oh orchid lace...

from
tarnished memories
in three quarter time
faceless bodies
in black and white
days dredged
with dreams undreamed

and nights beset
with crusted lies
oh love
denied
where demons dress
on golden shores
and angels taunt
forevermore
where love
had breathed
its last
and life
was lived
far too fast
oh acts
regret
all led
to but one place
dance my feet
oh feet of clay
dance my way
to your
smiling
face
and
wrap
me
now
in
 
your
orchid
lace
.
.
.

purple passion...

nights

edged

in lilac seams

where

loveless

love

lies

passim

o holy grail

 

dreams

float
quiet

into

waters
purple passion
ship

wrecked
souls

take

flight
spirits

scream
to

be

redeemed
o holy grail
spewing
forth
words

unheard
the

dark

abyss
opens wide
welcoming all
on the high
high tide
o holy grail
of
nights
edged
in lilac seams

.

.

.

the drowning...

 the tide sweeps upon the shore
drownin’ all my mem’ries even more

leavin’ behind all that glistenin’ glass
relics of dreams from the past
then those rollin’ waves wash on in
lappin’ up my life-long sins
lettin’ me free to begin ag’in
but love don’t come easy to this broken heart
wantin’ nobody but you right from the start

 

the tide swept upon the shore
leavin’ life empty forevermore

empty arms...

i keep pushin’ them
others aside
wishin’ i could go off
and hide
from their pryin’ eyes and
little white lies

 

 ain’t no comfort
to be found
when your heart’s all
memory bound
lovin’ arms are easy
to be had
but lovin’em back
is always bad
leaving me nothin’ but
 

empty and sad
why i pushed you away
i’ll never know
now two hearts
all full’a woe

.

.

.

wastelands...

ridin’ those highways of time
through my everlovin’ mind
lookin’ for some little ole sign
that says he’s all mine

but wastelands unkind
are all that i find

 
ain’t no oasis on which i can hope
nor nothin’ else to help me cope
nothin’ but sun bleached bones
love’s last remnants ever’where strewn

heartbeats embedded in sun-drenched sand
siftin’ right through my beggin’ hands
day scorches all in this burnin’ land
and night sings the blues in black velvet bands

life without love now takin’ its toll
peace don’t come to a heart heavy soul
ridin’ those highways of time
where cheatin’ for love was always a crime

and wastelands unkind
are all that i find
.
.
.
 

the dream...

i can’t seem
i can’t seem
to find

i can’t seem to find
what it is i’m lookin’ for
it’s one of a kind
like a night bleached star
sparklin’ all pretty from afar

i can’t seem to find
what it is i’m lookin’ for
all my hopes now resigned
to love behind closed doors
all my dreams now swept from shore

i can’t seem
i can’t seem
to keep

i can’t seem to keep
what it is i found
it all washed away in the ocean deep
makin’ its way all hell-bent bound
like ever’ thing else just gave up and drowned

i can’t seem
i can’t seem
to find
to keep

what was only a dream
in my dark dark mind
did it all float downstream
like vanilla cream

did i leave it somewhere behind
all laid out for your lecherous kind

i can’t see
i can’t see

didn’t nobody hear me scream

it was only a dream...

river of desire...

that ole river of desire
that molten flow of burnin’ fire
washed away all them words
you’d vowed to keep
an’ black an’ white got all blurred
slippin’ us both into the darkness deep
one glance at a time one touch at a time
knowin’ you were gonna be mine
no matter ever how brief
knowin’ it was gonna end in all that grief
an’ that ole river of desire
just kept on makin’ you a sinnin’ liar
but rivers run rapid down them hills
sweepin’ us both along for the kill
it wasn’t one but two that desired
two hearts of burnin’ fire

an’ that ole river ran mighty steep
holdin’ our love in its fiery keep
couldn’t neither one get a breath
at love’s greatest depth
to save a soul to save a heart
one had to make the start
to swim to shore
an’ stay evermore
livin’ a life without light
never havin’ no love in the night
but leavin’ the other tangle-free
‘stead of bein’ swept out to sea
lost to the serpents that waited for him
losin’ his way in the dark night dim

an’ so it was he made his way
always wonderin’ why she hadn’t stayed
an’ now she sits on that rocky shore
havin’ his love never no more
now that ole river of desire
keeps on burnin’ its mighty fire
two hearts just black black ashes
an’ no one hears her heart’s thrashes...

.
.
.

BOOK RELEASE...words unspoken...

it's here...yes...all those words unspoken from my first poetry blog, the gypsy on words unspoken, are now released in book form at amazon and ready for you - a long time coming and not without all the words of love and support and encouragement from all of you - for which i remain forever grateful - many many thanks to each and every one of you - 

with special thanks to the fabulous folks MARTIN CID and ISABEL del RIO at YAREAH MAGAZINE and YAREAH BOOK PUBLISHERS - be sure to check out this wonderful literary/arts international publication where you can catch my poetry every sunday - 

and extra special thanks to TRISH MACGREGOR for her ongoing inspiration, encouragement/support and friendship - and to her magnificent creation, NICA [in Esperanza and Ghost Key], who emanates love and lust - live on, Nica, live on!

- to all my readers, i wish you love and light -

shadow dance...

night winds etched your face
into the far side of the moon
and shadow birds danced
on waters of broken promises
last chances and
what could
have been

as the sun singed your heart
into the star-filled skies
and shadow birds danced
on clouds of discontent
dysphoria and
what could
have been

and the storm spun your soul
into the deep dark abyss
as shadow birds danced
on the edge of the cliff

and the winds etched
and the sun singed
and the storm spun

you
away

as

shadow birds
danced

on my
love’s grave
.
.
.
.
.