Thursday, 28 June 2012

Sea Sorcery

His hands go through my river body
and his lips capture the pattern of the water
and he kisses my waterfall neck. 
So effortlessly his seaweed hands are embedded in me
The crystal like deeds on my seabed lips
and he pick out these perils with his tongue.
My eyes tinted by the shadow of the lark’s wings
flapping in the wind and my watery scales he touches with his eyes
that shine like melting dark chocolate solids and the stone becomes colder
shining pearly hair dipped in the worldly mouth of the sea
the sea waves wooed me and that was my world in which I was sea Goddess
and he could definitely not be a mortal with his swooning voice and oyster eyes
that he opened the coffin of my soul and let the stormy love waves lash at him and for a
moment he did not try escape the tide that scooped he in the realm of my love

A Ring

A simple concept yet so complex
somehow a symbol devoid of meaning
just something to show you are owned
It assumedly legitimises your love
yet its not doesn’t create love
When you give you hand it doesn’t mean
that you give your heart
I remain the keeper of the cooper key!

My earthly beauty you can see but my soul you can’t
The soul that when brushed with the nettle ring stings
My pearly face doesn’t show a rose of this even to the artist
Who wants to capture my beauty but can’t!
Simply because he is granted my beauty in those hours
But then my beauty fleets away from him
My beauty belongs to me – a ring can’t change that
Just because I spin my ruffle red coloured gown has no meaning – not to me.

My love could not be jarred because with him I was the jar
I took his signs, bottled them up and threw them into the Thames
it sinks into the river not into my heart
My heart is pressed into the passage of my book
that he can’t touch and it makes me laugh
Because in your eyes I had a lover too
Rubies reflected my expression
My tinted expression is its greatest to me 
Nobody can see it.

My portrait I took down from the wall
as I said my beauty belonged to me
so off it went with my luggage into the cart
and into my very own palace!

The ring was sold and I took the money.
Now it’s laughable that around his grave nettle would grow
as his love ring had sting me
In death he isn’t free because he could never gain me

I hold my tea parties without company
tons of ladies would love to accompany me
yet I rather be alone not with my frocks but
my tittle, my household, my leisure books and my queen Spaniel!

By Elena Kokonova

Monday, 25 June 2012

Soul Sisters Book Review

Light-years better than the Twilight Saga series. Characters with a real personality and not only this but also ones that each of us can relate too. Another thing I must highlight is the fact that Eldridge doesn’t make her characters fit the mould but rather opens up a new realm – coloured characters and this is a new/fresh and fantastic thing to see hero’s and heroine’s with a different backgrounds to the otherwise typical and over-represented characters.

The journey the characters and that we the reader go through isn’t a light everything is going to be alright one. There is a real serious threat at the core of this novel, there is real fear and raw emotions/passions – strain underlining the feelings of the character which very precisely border on what real life emotions are like. Eldridge does don’t shy away from exposing what is at the heart of her characters whether that is their lust/desire, their anger or the everyday battle that takes place within their soul and the transgression between these is an eloquently one.

A novel with a gripping plot and the 2 interlinked time periods create tension and mystery. It stirs up our emotions and really makes us feel. There are moments that parallel with real life situations and emotions throughout this book which will really move you, you have to be a rock for it not to do so! I’d hardly ever cry at a book but there were points I was crying on the inside– I’m not going to include any spoilers. There were moments when my heart panged gleefully with joy and when my heart shrivelled with confusion, pain and anger. Moments of happiness and sadness are mixed together in a blending pot; moments where emotions spill into one another and just like in Shakespeare’s play’s a tense scene is followed by a anti-tension/comic scene – however there is no comedy here!

Let me tell you this before hand readers – you can’t run away from that fact that there is A LOT of tensio in this novel whether it is in that scenario of life vs death, sisterhood or love. I wanted both to get to the end to find out what happens and at the same time I didn’t want it to end because I would have to part with the character which I had become attached to and fallen in love with.  

Furthermore, the bound that exists between the sisters is a powerful one – that really strikes the reader at the core of the heart. I know it did this to me. I was fascinated at how real their relationship was and how the novel reveals to us the very building blocks of this and the way it moves us through their plight/journey as sisters.

The powerful force of conflict that exists is something that I can’t describe to you because it is something you have to personally experience by yourself. Consider yourselves warned when I say that it will consume you – it will split you - on who to root for, who to hate and who to aim your anger/frustration at. You will struggle to pick whose side you will be on! 

If you don’t read this novel then you are missing on a really fantastic read and that’s a real shame because something like this magnificent master piece shouldn’t be ignored/side-lined for the typical, main stream,hyped-up works of vampire fiction like the Twilight Series or The Vampire Dairies – I have read those yet this is simply in a league of its own.

Contemplations: An Anthology of Short Fiction & Poetry

When I got Contemplations I didn’t have any before hand presumption – yes I knew it was a collection of poetry and short fiction but I didn’t know anything beyond that and well I’m not going to reveal any spoilers to all those reading this review because reading without knowing is really a great experience!

L.M. Stull doesn’t shy way from emotion and isn’t afraid to show the darkness that exists in everyday life. Don’t get the impression that this is a pessimistic book because it isn’t – it just reflects those daily struggles that nobody talks about. Stull does talk about those struggles– and this is a truly great thing to see because let’s face it even if those things aren’t talked about those it doesn’t make them any less true or less of a reality and it definitely doesn’t make them any better. Rather we face the reality than ignore it and be un-aware of it.

There were moments when I wanted to cry and moments when I was on the edge of my seat. In ‘A Second Chance’ the tense situation really was on an edge of a knife, things could have gone either away, but it was like walking on a rope to discovere whether there is a resolution or everything crashes in pieces. It’s about that the significance of time and the discovery of ones emotions but also what to do with those emotions as well as how to express them. This isn’t simply a story about a situations and it’s resolution – its much more complex than that its about the people involved, the discovery of what one wants and the journey. The characters made a lasting impression on me and I thought about them after I had finished reading. Another thing is that that there is a moral to the story – not the kind of moral of what is right or wrong but the moral of teaching the reader and making them aware.

I absolutely loved ‘The Bus’ I thought that the contrast of characters was fantastic – I really was attached to the characters and I emphasised with them as well as the situations they were in. There wasn’t a trace of something that I would call hyper-reality. Characterization was just amazing and the characters have real heart. There was such raw intense emotion here my tears where on the brink. There was no cliché ending here and this was also the case with the rest of the short fiction.

The poems are like a small breath of an emotion and we connect it. There is no soppy emotion here and that’s a great thing to see. There is a real essence of emotion/feeling and also realness – it doesn’t present false situations/scenarios but things that we have all experienced at one point in our lives. Stull presents these in a simple way even though they are very complex emotions and by saying simple I don’t mean that they aren’t emotional or powerful just expressed in a very linear straight away. I would love to see some of the short story themes in a poem – it would be interesting to see how Stull would present such themes in a poetic form.

Stull doesn’t judge – she just shows us reality and although there is grimness in the reality she doesn’t make us lose hope in humanity or in life. Even though there may not be happy endings always that’s life and that’s what Stull wants to present us – life isn’t one of those TV comedies. She still manages to present hope and tenderness at the same time. Stull makes us treasure plus value what we have because some people have never known happiness and simply aren’t destined to either.

You potential readers out there I highly recommend Stull work, she isn’t a writer to be overlooked and you are really missing out if you don’t read this collection – the stories will leave you wanting more and wondering about the characters lives. Get the book for yourself and also discover yourself along the way. You wouldn’t be disappointed at all! The price is a mere nothing compared to what an enjoyable experience it is reading this collection. 

I’m now a fan of Stull and will want to get more of her work.

Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula Book Review

An un-missable read! Since the moment I saw the cover I was interested and intrigued – but definitely don’t try defining this book by its cover because you have no idea what’s behind that cover.

All the elements that make a perfect and thrilling read are here – family life, friendship, the tension of young love/crushes and a real great mystery at the centre at the same time. The title says it all – it really is an adventure – there really wasn’t a moment when I wasn’t overcome by some time of emotion. It is really an adventure that doesn’t give you a moments rest or indeed from wanting to discover who is the real culprit/danger a better version of Cluedo. There are so many things going on at once that they divert you from figuring out the mystery and the use of red herrings is fantastic.

Right from the beginning not only was I hooked but I also loved Cassidy. Really somebody who is ‘real’ and somebody that I rooted from start to finish for. This made it so much more enjoyable and a reading experience I wouldn’t forget. I really understood Cassidy and not only that but her voice is realistic and she invites us in her life/adventure. What happens to Cassidy in the adventure I would have never guessed and when I did find out it made the book and my reading experience so much more wonderful and magical. Nobody wants to have the dull same old teenage girl characters and personality/character clichés. There is an un-clichéd plot as well.

I can’t really put into words how much I really loved this novel and I really have a difficulty with the choosing out books to read but this really goes beyond ticking all the boxes for a perfect novel. There are so many lovely descriptions/metaphors that it’s just really something that goes towards the whole package of making this book really fascinating. The dialogue so much reflects that used that incredibly to see but also its very much very personal to the character’s and well let me tell you as a creative writing student that dialogue can sometimes be the defining line of making or breaking your work. There’s real feeling’s and emotions here not something that I, the reader wouldn’t relate to and that’s something really powerful that all great writers want to achieve. Some writers work on it their whole lives and never do get it but Stokes has and just so magnificently too, by avoiding those stereotypical characters that pop in so many teen and as well as adult novel’s too.

Moreover, there is loads of humour in here at times I was really laughing it’s another one of those things that’s not easy to do but Stokes does it swiftly and superbly that there’s no way you wouldn’t enjoy it.

The ending too doesn’t conform to any regular ending - it’s the middle way between a cliff hanger and a solution. I never saw that ending coming let me tell you and well it’s a fantastic ending. You wouldn’t want to leave Cassidy. I really was still intrigued by the ending – there was still so much questions, tensions and unresolved feelings but that’s part of it’s greatness ,as nothing is life is just a simple answer. Cassidy is like a real person so although there’s a resolution of a kind at the end we can’t wait to read about her next adventure which will to be just as intriguing.

You reader’s out there this a FABULOUS read so just press that button and get reading right know because the adventure is simply awaiting to be unlocked. Don’t even think about it you wouldn’t be able to imagine how much you shall enjoy Cassidy Jones’ adventures. Whether you are a young or an older reader you would love Cassidy’s adventure and would be lucky to know/have Cassidy as a friend any day. You can’t put a price on this wonderful book.

The Gargoyle Book Review

I got The Gargoyle at a book fair and after reading the blurb at the back I thought this is a novel that I’m really going to love – as I’m generally into gothic and dark romances. I wasn’t wrong I did love it so much!

When I started reading I was surprised that it was set in the modern era and I was confused at the start – that doesn’t go to say that the book didn’t draw me and intrigue me because it really did. I loved how the horror of the burning wasn’t toned down and that it was shocking and painful because I as the reader my heart was being clenched with sadness. Davidson successfully manages to take away the glass screen that makes the readers watch from the sidelines and truly lets the reader experience everything themselves. I really could imagine the events of the novel happening in real life.

The characters I though were so fantastic and they weren’t simply characters on a page – they didn’t have a air of reality because they are so well crafted that they are indeed appeared like real people with feeling, attitudes, a past and a present.

Furthermore, I loved the character of Marianne – her character is so heroic, she has real strength and the amount of belief she has is unfaltering. She is at the same time a mysterious character yet an un-mysterious character – she comes out of nowhere and she changes the whole narrative. It’s not about her ‘beauty’ or her ‘physical appearance’ that are significant as in other novels but  this isn’t the case in this novel and it makes it that much more powerful. Marianne has so much power as a heroine, a woman, as voice to the story that you can’t but help to fall love with her. She is really a symbol of strength and belief, even though the narrator doesn’t believe her story, she doesn’t back down even for a single moment. There is a contradictory nature to her character – she is at moments so strong and at moments so helpless, she is the provider and yet at times she can’t even look after herself. Indeed, she is truly one of those characters that cares for others more than her and is really the epitome of a character with many hearts.

Also the ‘character’ of Bougastas isn’t to be left out even though might some consider him only a small part of the story he isn’t – he is very much like the narrator in so many ways. He is with Marianne many years, she loves him and even though the burnt man comes into her life, they are of equal – she really does have a big true heart.

Lastly the burn man whose name we never find out, is a character that at the beginning, might seem to some readers strange and untypical for a hero – well he is untypical but he isn’t strange. He isn’t one of those ‘perfect’ stereotypical male characters – he has his flaws yet this is great because we all do, as we are human beings. In him I saw the real conflict that goes on in the human mind and the human nature – he wishes to die, is embarrassed by his appearance, he logically thinks that Marianne is ill and yet in his heart he truly knows that she isn’t. It’s that dual nature here that really makes us attached and really believe in his narration – he really does tell us the truth without a doubt. He goes through so much hardship yet he doesn’t pity himself, I loved this about him and I though that Davidson had sculpted him perfectly – because in so many novels we see characters pity themselves yet we as the reader never tend to pity those characters. A significant thing I have to highlight is the importance of appearance here – it’s not our appearance that defines us. The narrator only learns from the change in his appearance about himself – so there is a moral here – his pre- accident appearance was a façade to learning about his true nature and finding what he really wanted from as well as in life.

The narrator realises that his appearance doesn’t matter and that only through his burning has he met Marianne – and the moral of this is that life isn’t about beauty as his beauty was pointless and he was wasting away his life. It’s his burning that makes his a better person and teaches him about life and himself. By returning to that state he would lose everything he has gained after the accident.

What struck me was that their love transcended through everything. It was an unspoken bond there between them. No matter what they had been through and went through their love was there and nothing in the world could change that – neither time, nor appearance, nor arguments and neither death. Their love isn’t based on primal needs after he is burned but their love exists regardless  - even Marianne touching his burns there is tenderness and love in that touch. Even a simple look between them is one of love and I knew that they belonged together forever.

Moreover, the historical aspect in the book was simply magical – I couldn’t wait to find out what happened after each time the story paused and then when it started again it took me on another adventure. When the story was finally told I was in tears. It’s so perfectly interweaved into the plot and the story in itself is so powerful and moving that we can’t but be effected by it. There is courage, faith, love, friendship, as well as betrayal and lose that it’s so remarkable and it consumes the reader. After we discover the end of the historical tale we are really at a loose of words – we never saw the story to coming to such an end. Afterwards, I couldn’t help myself but love, respect and admire Marianne even more.

The actual novel ending is something that I too could have never predicted. The narrator is changed, for the better yet his life changes ones again, and well he is very far away from the man he used to be in the beginning of the novel. He continues to love even after there is no more hope; the beacon of hope in his life is gone and is never coming back. Just like in the beginning in one moment he loses everything he values and yet he doesn’t surrender his life. Even though he has a choice he doesn’t use it and everyday he thinks about this choice – feeling guilty but I felt that even though he had the choice it wasn’t an option and he in his heart deeply knows that.

This novel is something every reader should give a try because it’s simply not worth a miss. 

Thursday, 21 June 2012

A Joust - A short story

At the centre of the room, wearing a silk evening gown is Grace Tranfield; she is waiting to greet the newest member of the Ibsen club. His name is Dorian Gray, supposedly a fine young man from a slightly impoverished background, directed to her for the sole purpose of taming his disreputable character. It is a cruel punishment that Satan would bestow upon the seraph! An inequitable form of suffering one should think!

On the red checked armchair she is seated, her legs crossed and hands placed on the armrests. Her face imprinted across the pages of a heavy volume, her pursed lips in the letters.  

He arrives dressed in a grey suit. On Grace his eyes fall and thinks that her pose would be perfect for a painting. How good Basil was to direct him to her! The creator gifted her with brown peahen coloured hair and black glazed eyes. Her superior truthful red aura dominates over his mistrusting pink one.   

The equilibrium in the room is shifted. The balance is no longer in harmony. Noticing him, she slams the book down and abruptly moves to the edge of the chair and slowly lifts herself up to welcome him.

‘My name is Grace’, offering her hand.
‘I am Dorian Gray. You are too pretty to be sitting here inhaling old fumes of archaic books. Trying to read yourself to death it seems,’ he chuckles and continues. ‘A pretty picture like you should go buy a fancy gown and experience the vast pleasures the world has to offer. ’
He kisses her hand. ‘Privileged to come into your acquaintance. However –’ 
‘Books teach you many things which pretty dresses can’t.’ she said witheringly
‘I disagree with that. Books are tiresome.’

She leads him into the palace library. Bewildered, he looks around the room as if the books could consume him. She gestures for him to sit on a leaf green divan, which overlooks the winter garden. Rough and louche he appears in the grandiose library.

Like a mirror her face reflects the landscape of the garden. He tries hard not to stare at her Godly perfect face. He wishes to get away from her glazed knowledgeable eyes.  

On the opposite side she sits herself in the middle of the coral sofa. The wall high bookshelves are her background. If you looked from afar you might actually make the mistake of thinking she is seated on a shelf as her expression belongs here with all the books of knowledge. Yes, this is her habitat!

He takes off his cashmere scarf and proceeds to twisting it around his thin cruel fingers. She looks out of the window. He makes no attempt to talk to her. From the side of his moss green graves he watches, the vision of her lioness beauty. 

She ever so gently kills the silence with her inquiry, ‘So tell me about your interests Dorian?’ 

He seems dazed, like a snake slithering wearily from its shelter.

‘I like the theatre, The Place Theatre. Shakespeare plays satisfy my minds thrust for the art of preforming. I am a lover of Ophelia.’
‘Ophelia – she isn’t real!’
‘Alive she is yet dies over and over again all for me. Oh I have wondered about the Opehelian kiss?’
‘You can wonder yet don’t know the answer! Very surprising!’ she says dustily
Then pursues again ‘Any other sort of interests?’

His face is distorted for a second and in his mechanical brain he debates something; he faces away avoid the face of knowledge.

‘Maybe, but I don’t think we need discuss those.’
A smirk appears across her face, ‘Oh I can very well guess what sorts of interests you are referring to Dorian – dens, philandering, brothels and public houses’
‘Is it that obvious?’
‘You have that air about you Dorian. You walked in and I knew the sorts of interests you had’ she bitterly announces into the room. 
‘You know nothing of the worldly experiences I’ve had. Yet young forever I will remain. Forever young and beautiful. Shall out live my Sybil. Oh Sybil Vane my lover, oh it will be sad! Her beauty will die like her last performance.’

‘Tonight we shall see Chekhov performed. I like Chekhov. If you are unsatisfied simply go home.’
‘Chekhov – wouldn’t expect you to know of him. What an awful quality in a woman that she should know more than her fellow man. Simply barbaric and tragic! Your beauty is degraded by all this knowledge.’
‘If you don’t want to be here – then leave.’

She twirls out of the library only a step behind her he is like a night stalker.

‘But I do want to stay. Your beauty! It fascinates me!’ he declares vehemently

‘I assumed that so I have booked us a table to dine.’
At the bar she orders a bottle of wine and hors d’oeuvres, asking for one glass only.

‘What shall you have?’
‘I’ll have glass of whisky and a steak’ to which she informs the waiter off.

They go to sit, she on the right, the right hand with exalted power and Dorian sits on the east which is the direction of the mighty farewell.

In silence the meal passes. Her knowledgeable eyes and face he avoids so as to prevent the inevitability of his nightmares. He thinks her unsettling. She observes his whole manner and is unable to conclude whether he has a speck of morality left or whether will always remain a loathsome creature. Her manner is dominant and knowledgeable, not the stereotypical one of the middle class women only concerned with frocks and frills. 
She exclaims, ‘my driver is waiting for me. We shall meet at the theatre at six.’

‘I can’t wait to begin to court you! Oh it will be very artistic Lady Grace! I shall request a motor car.’

She arrives at her destination – home, heartedly thanks the driver and unlocks the door. She rings for the maid, Ava, who appears quickly. Grace tells her she would not be home for dinner so only to prepare a meal for herself.

Into her boudoir she goes and in the fastest manner possible undresses. On the Persian rug, her expensive yellow dress, her stocking and her low heels, are scattered. She is not impoverished, but her figure is small and petite. Her curves are womanly indeed, making her body fuller. She is unconcerned about the effect she has on men. She battered Loenard’s marriage proposal with her lips and her heart was only conquered with revenge. Even though he raggedly wanted her still, preferably in bed.

She is dressed in her costume; a tattered ash coloured gown, a pair of walking boots, a hat and purse in hand. Out of the commode she takes out casket she takes out a lump of fresh green notes.


The darkness devours the day. Worried that she would not be able to find Sybil, Dorian’s fascination, she nervously plays with the money as she enters the disreputable theatre. Into the portal to world of female oppression she descends, locating a man.

‘Is Sybil here?’
He slurs, ‘What business do you have with her?’
‘That simply doesn’t concern you!’
‘Why should I tell you?’

He stands in front of her to bar her way. She shoves him aside and into the chair he stumbles.

Two women scrub the stage so Grace goes up the flight of stairs.

Politely she says, “Sorry! I’m here looking for Sybil. Could you tell me where I can find her?’

One woman goes over to her. The other sits on the stage. Grinding labour they have to carry out – another lifeless day. They are poor working women, and have no saved dignity here.

‘Grimshore Close number 19, not far from here’

‘What can I offer as a thank you…?
‘To be you my Lady even just for a day, expect we know that isn’t impossible.’
‘Yes, so the best thing I can offer is money’
‘Anything that you give us my lady will be glorified.’

She hands them both some notes which flicker before their eyes.

Grace walks along the overgrown and rooting labyrinth streets of Soho. Outside one house a blue handkerchief, another house has a broken window and muddy footprints on the wall of another. She wonders what the significance of these traces of life are and what kind of lives these people lead? Obviously in parallel to hers, yet destined to meet.

The house she is directed to is one tinted with factory air and the door looks like its handing for its life.  She knocks carefully – once, twice and footsteps are heard approaching. The door opens very so carefully and she meets a young man, just one of the many dwellers on these streets.

She says, ‘I’ve come to talk to Sybil.’

Along the crying corridor they walk and into a seating room of sorts.

‘She isn’t here but I presume you’re here regarding Sybil’s suitor.’
Grace nods, ‘I came into his acquaintance today and I could smell his mortifying interests. I believe he is deceiving Sybil. It’s best you keep Sybil away from him. He isn’t a gentleman and regard towards women is like that of an mindless, unintellectual creature who should be used only for men’s physical lusts.’
His eyes register this information, the news like a banner on his lips and he is triumphly relieved to have it confirmed.

‘I knew – there was something not right about him’ the pause shatters, ‘He did seemed like an illusion. Oh Sybil is so young! Too young to realise!’
‘My proposal is that you take Sybil away. Overseas preferably. That would be best for her.’
‘My family can’t afford that.’
Retrieving the poignant green notes she hypnotises him with it.
‘The amount here should cover for all the expenses and beyond.’

His response is that of shaking his head to the bundle of money. Pale becomes his face. Never is his life has he been hovering frantically over the honey combed notes as now. He looks down at the floor and presses his hands into his face. An exhausted tear melts on his raw cheek. 

‘You have to take the money and take Sybil away! I want to save her from that wretch!’
He breathes labouredly.
‘How will I be able to take her away?’ he murmurs
‘Do it by force if you have to!’

His ivy expression unravels. His washed out rosy cheeks.

‘After what I learn today I do have to take her away at all costs!’
‘Take the money’ she says pushing it into his creased palm.

Ever so slowly his child like hand wrap around the notes. His childish eyes feast on the abundant supper.
‘She will be saved.’ She smiles.  

‘I have not introduced myself or offered you a drink. That is highly unwelcoming of me – a negligent host.’
She quickly intercepts, ‘No! Not at all! There were more important matters at hand.’
‘My name is James Vane. I’m Sybil’s older brother and a sailor. I head of to Australia soon.’
She claps her hands, ‘that is perfect! Simply perfect!’  

She walks over to him and they shake his hand. There is a harmony in the air between them.

‘You are a wonderful brother’
‘What you are doing for my sister is – ’
‘I’m glad I could do something.’

He rushes to open the door for her. He thanks her and she wishes them luck.

She lets the items from before guide her through the toppling team of houses along the rail like roads. 

Inside her villa she goes and into her boudoir she undresses putting on a quartz coloured dress, a pair of embodied toe mules, applies her rouge and brushes her hair. Combing it so she can put it in a bun with a heavily decorative pin.

By the door she sees him standing wearing another attire.

He draws her very figure with his pencil eyes. ‘A perfect painting!’

He purchases the tickets. They are ushered inside, being engulfed by the eagerly waiting show. From the balcony they hang down into the scene of the theatre. Anybody here would think them a couple. This thought makes his lust thirsty. The shiver upon her skin even worms desire into him. His hand hovers near her left thigh not touching – the painting! Unable too fully drink her refined beauty with his eyes. Oh such Beauty! Tonight he isn’t enveloped into the performance. Dorian conjures a cigar in his fingers and lights it.

‘Can I have one?’

The sound of her voice drills into his mind lust that needs to be sacrificed. He lights it and hands it to her.

The way her orange peel lips form around the cigar. The imagination of the kiss! What would the reality be? Such wilderness and wonder! How she plays with me! Pretends she isn’t aware of my near touch. Oh the passions of two different women Ophelia and Grace!

She takes her cloak and out onto the street scene she goes standing under the lamp looking like a lamplighter. He makes his entrance onto the street. 

‘I want to can catch the portrait of Ophelia.’

Dorian attempts to dig his claws into her but she flies down the street.
The chase that my mind experience is petrifyingly arousing! How much the more seducing my prize will be when I win.

She has led him to the Palace Theatre. An artful performance he feathers.
We hear banter in the background of the infamous Soho landscape. He seizes her hand and he smells the scent of his victory and this makes him feel like a man that has risen out of a burning down house alive.
He cages her in his body and kisses her.

Animal cries come from a young girl that has appeared. Grace uses her nails as daggers and her fists as hammers at Dorian – gets him off and spits at him. Unnoticed is the girl and she is their audience.

‘Vile creature how dare you abuse me?’

The girl like a lioness ambushes her prey, with hunger and violence.

With sore anger the girl says, ‘Prince Charming. My Prince Charming – you were meant to be. I saw what you did. I am not a little girl yet so naïve to believe your performance. Damn foolish to believe you loved me. Minutes before now I was plotting my suicide when you didn’t come. My brother told me he wanted to take me away from England, from you. He was right to call you a wretch, a low life, a bastard. How empty I was to not believe him but rather believe you, the serpent and the devil. I never want to see you again in my life.’

Gathered in her hands is a Medusa’s head made of a bundle of gowns, scarves, robes which she throws at him and that fall onto the damp dirty road, turning turn into litter not at all out of place. Dorian blinking repeatedly appears to be dumb founded.

The girl turns to Grace, ‘you are the woman who saved my life. You ripped away the canvas of lies and revealed the truth. You are the Goddess of Power. It’s because of you I’m still alive so I should get on my knees and offer gifts and thanks.’  

Turning to Dorian she hits him twice with a profound rawness she didn’t now she possessed.

‘How dare you treat women as game birds and think you can do whatever you like with them against their will.’
‘Nicely done Sybil. A great performance!’

The woman’s company he walks away from and his destination a small shaded house. Everything he lusted for has vanished before his eyes. Grace has destroyed the beauty in his artful life and Opehlia broke his heart. The Ouija board is turned. He goes to misty opium dens and subdues himself in his delightful and sinful pleasures.

The women walk hand in hand to the Vane’s household. Cynthia Vane receives Grace like her own daughter and treats her like she descends from the mighty palace. Their sparse foodstuff they give to her and apologize. Looking in from the window, one would see a family together. One will look past all the hanging window frames, ripped curtains, dim room and see a family, united after a plight.  

The next morning the news of Dorian’s death is what everybody and everything is whispering about. The air and streets are haunted by this news. As soon as Grace and Sybil hear of his joyful news, the very next night they locate his house and burnt it down with his own cigar. Nothing more exists of Dorian Gray. It was as if he was just an optical illusion.

 By Elena Kokonova 

This is one of my recent short stories. I hope you enjoy reading it a lot as much as i did writing it. many thanks

Friday, 15 June 2012


On the pier railings I leaned
threw the vessel into the sea
that contained my heart that
I have stuffed inside
where it has grown to its full size
pressing against the sides wanting to
pop out.

Into the sea I threw it.

The sea being the only thing
standing between is and around us
so it theory it’s the distance of the sea that separates us.

In I threw it and said a prayer. I wanted it to have a safe trip.

I knew it would take a while to arrive to you
as the sea is longer then we can imagine
there more to it than our eyes can see
and it is more than we can measure

It had a long journey to come to you – so I waited.

At the other end you stood were you received it
so the vessel that contained my heart
had finally reached you, this I instantly knew.

You indeed felt my love through the bottle walls
as it radiated out of my heart and the rawness of my love
you saw and felt.

I never knew love before I had met you,
not the type of love I have with you anyway
I had never been loved before, not like in the way
that you love  me.

Now you have my love it will forever be with you. 

By Elena Kokonova


I love you beyond imagination, colour, speed and time

My love can’t be washed away with water nor burnt away with fire
The love I have for you can’t be seduced away or coaxed out my heart
I wouldn’t let time beat away at my love nor let the cold thaw the roots in my heart.
Not inside an eggshell is my love but a cocoon where it is doormat for a while.

There is nothing, which could tempt me – not money, drugs, sex or cars

What I feel goes beyond that…that vision of materialistic love
The only thing that influenced me was the size of your heart, the nakedness of your words and the intensity of the attention you gave me!

For one day your love didn’t falter
Whatever time you could steal from your day you gave it to me
One second you didn’t put me last! 

By Elena Kokonova

Our Sphere

There are places in the world but they aren’t as special
as when we are in the same place – together
When your time parallels meet and we are in very
different time frames yet in the same moment together

Only one thing separates our time spheres of life
Yet I always sent my love across the seven seas

I didn’t ask for nothing expect being loved in return
I don’t complain when time begins to play tricks so
that our time parallels don’t cross
or when time steals you away from me  

When you are with me
I don’t waste time but
use up every second we are granted

Then when you are away
I think of all the moments we laughed,
kissed, made love as well as all the sad
moments when I’ve cried and you’ve listened

Nothing more I will ask for and nothing more do I need.

 By Elena Kokonova

 Thank you for reading. Your thoughts on my work are valued. :)

I didn’t Fall for a Saint I Fell for a Human

A marshmallow heart you posses
like a treasure chest you were
I found you and discovered your treasure heart
Wondering how somebody else hadn’t found you
but then I realised  that I was meant to find you
You were supposed to be found by me!

To me like a saint you appeared
Your energy glowed out of you
and indeed you were my lighthouse
with be being the dark that hugs you close
during those musky windy nights

Hope, belief, courage, inspiration and strength
were soul qualities you had and have within you
and you like a work of art started to draw those qualities in me
Indeed you infused them into me and made me a better person
Taught me a lot I would have never known about myself
You watched me change in your own eyes and you smiled

You always believed in me more than I believe in myself
I didn’t think you could be human
But you were.

You claimed that you have faults
But I haven’t so far seen these so called faults
Maybe I’m blind to them even though I don’t think that’s the case

I just accept you as you are because
I love you in the very shape of who you are
Your hangovers, tiredness, sleepiness, and busyness I accept
for you, my love.

At the end of the day I fell for a human not for a saint!

By Elena Kokonova

one of my most recently written love poems. i greatly enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed writing it. any feedback is great thanks for taking the time to read :)

Thursday, 14 June 2012

Sea Folklore - A short story

 My hands were strapped. The weight of my whole body was captured. On the surface I heard them shout we have caught a big one. I wasn’t a one and I definitely wasn’t going to be their meal. The gasp of my scream transcended into a bubble because only air came out of my mouth.

I fought with the strings that dug into my hands, fingers and neck. The waves that I had sworn an oath to on my birth were there with me and they wouldn’t be backing down anytime soon. I was their goddess and worshiped them every day of my life. My love wouldn’t be forgotten.

Feeling the fingers of the waves around me was the most pleasant thing I had experienced. I wrap my hands around the strings and violently pull. I flip over and downwards I swim taking the net with me. The force of the sea was right behind me taking me deeper into its world.

I faintly heard screams which was followed by two splashes. I didn’t know what was happening but soon the net floated away from me. Franticly I moved around and saw only the peaceful blue sea that was my home yet I was sure very far from my particular patch of sea.

I felt something sinking and then I saw them, two fishermen – dead. That was the day I claimed the lives of two men. They looked grotesque and cruel with their sharp features and thin glossy skin. 


I got washed up on a beach – the located of the place I don’t know.  Where the sea planted me and that’s where I’m going to stay. Obviously the sea has brought me up here for a reason so here I shall pass my days.

The climate is hotter than I’m used to and the humid air makes me feel naked. My days go by quickly, I dive looking for coral, pearls and oysters. At night I create the rhyme of the waves and the shape of their being. I sing lullabies to the sea.

Nobody ever comes to the beach and that makes me sad even though they aren’t supposed to know about my existence. My life is significant because I controlled the sea and I’m responsible for its very existence.

In the night waves I hear his voice tumble. Back and forth it twirls against my ears. His voice was soothing. It made me feel secure like well I had a companion.

I don’t know who he is or where he comes I just know that he is always here.


For 365 days of the year, every night he comes before the break of dawn and talks to me. He tells me stories of all sorts. I don’t know how he came into my world but he did. Somebody enchanting knows I exist and this is he!

In my cave I wake up and up I get to feast on some pure sea greens. I hear something strange – a loud noice coming to a halt near by. Afterwards, there are footsteps approaching and actually coming down the great step cliff.

Nobody has come to this beach for all the time I have been here.

The footsteps get closer and closer. On the sand the human goes and I hear the steps coming towards the cave – my home. I stay still not knowing what to do.

 A soothing voice searches ‘Ruby’

The voice. That voice. I know it.

Knowing to whom it belongs to, I slide myself along the cave floor. I peep out of my cave. Not knowing what I would find, my eyes swim over the landscape of the shore. They find a young man treading the sand and onto the path to my cave.

‘Please Ruby show yourself.’

The wind blows loudly. The waves lash against the rocks. I remain silent.

‘I’m not here to harm you.’

I press my dampish hair against the wet stone of the cave. He isn’t deterred by my non-responsiveness as he is almost at the entrance of my cave.

‘I’m sorry for disturbing you’

He stands on the threshold of my cave. Nothing like the merman I’ve meet. On his upper he wears a top – white in colour and on the bottom where if he was a merman his tail would be there – he wears a bottom part which is a lovely colour – navy. I smile up at him.

‘Your are beautiful when you smile’

Silent I remain.

‘Aren’t you going to speak?’

The colour of a chestnut his body is and his eyes glitter like blackberries after the rain. Right now I’m stunned by his gorgeous strikingly majestic glowing appearance. He is like the most perfect pearl I have discovered.

I just want to touch his chestnut skin and tell him how much his friendship meant to me.

‘I didn’t expect your arrival. How did you know where I was?’
‘I just knew. I know you are leaving soon’
‘How do you know I’m leaving?’

I didn’t want to go and be without him Like my seaweed bracelets are tiwtsted around my wrist, he is twisted around my heart. Forever ingrained in my heart he will be.

‘I just knew’
‘You always seem to know’
‘Well I’ve know you for over an year and I know many things.’
‘I know that I love you’

I’m bewildered by what he is saying. I don’t understand what he means by love.

‘This isn’t a dictionary definition of it but its an invisible force that overtakes you, the force of that being the source of caring to always be with, to never part from and indeed never let me go when the time comes!’
‘Well that kind of makes sense. That would mean I love you too’
‘Do you?’
‘I feel what you described. I don’t want to leave you!’

Those blackberry eyes of his take in my sweeping straight hazelnut mare hair. He takes in my misty pale almost ghost white face and my lychee coloured lips.  A fog overtakes my heart; I take his hand and then feel the tenderness of his skin against my own.

‘Sacrifices have to be made for love’

I look witheringly at him.

‘I’m coming with you’
‘What about your life?’
‘You are talking as if my life will end. I will be with you.’
‘But my existence is secret’
‘Me loving and joining you wouldn’t hurt the grand scheme of things.’
‘I’m a mermaid. I will always remain one.’

He reaches his beautifully crafted hand over my wet chunky hair. Those perfectly framed eyes, they seem perfect to me, are the most picturesque thing I have discovered yet they have other ideas as they like a wave wash over me. I flush with curiosity and ecstasy.

‘a beauty you are, with a soul, mind and heart to match’ he whispers

I flush intensely and he gives me a smile of dreams.

‘I’ve never meet a girl like you. Never will again.’
‘So for me you will give up everything?’
‘Yes I’m giving up everything to forever be with you’
‘I never knew I loved you all those days of my life. But now I know’
‘I know how much you love me.’
‘You will become a merman once you join me!’
‘Well it only makes sense’

I take his hand, move towards the water and let the waves pull me in – first.

His top and bottom begin to disappear, turning into rainbow coloured scales that match mine. In wonder he watches the changing of his body. This is when I lean towards him and kiss him stormily on his chocolate macaroon lips.

The waves engulf us and deeper into the homely ocean we go together.

We will forever remember the beach as the place we meet. Our mark will remain forever more yet deserted it is of our presence. 

By Elena Kokonova

another short story i've written. I hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoy writing them. any feedback is welcome and appreciated :) many thanks for reading 

Warrior - A short story

 From the tittle you wouldn’t be able to guess who I’m. They gave me a crappy crappy stage name. I’ll tell it to you straight – Disney feed you a pack of lies. That wasn’t my story at all. You see I wasn’t the quite the good girl they made me out to be with the ‘Oh cleaning the house and tidying the beds.’ Yeah right!

Let’s get this out in the open right know. I’m quite the opposite and always have been, if you catch my flow. I might have snow skin and raven hair but I ain’t no fluffy frivolous princess. Why always the pretty pink frills and frocks? Ugh simply disturbing! I rather have tatters and hand-me-downs damn it!

Now I’ll begin to tell you my tale if you would call it that since it well it is my life really. Anyway moving on… The thing was that I wasn’t really daddy’s spoiled rotten girl because get this – I didn’t get along with my father. He has a very long list of flaws that I’m not going to list. Pointing being is that we really didn’t mix well – a bit like wax and water too be honest.

Dad was an architect, went to build the London Bridge. Everybody expected that to fall down, even had a lil’ song about it but it wasn’t eroded by all the tourists. Well then he got called to design the Olympic stadium that definitely didn’t turn out like London Bridge. You bet I saw laughing out loud when I found out. 
It happened too quickly – there even no time to formulate a tune. Dam and it was gone. Outta sight.

I stole the torch and sold it on the eBay. Got quite a hefty sum. Brother swam part of the way home chasing the ducks and me I robe. We weaved ourselves some feather chains and celebrated with London Pride.

The topic of my stepma is controversial. A good woman she is don’t listen to the crap. Get this right – she is no evil temptress or a goldigger just a shred businesswoman to the core of her blue blood veins. You might think she is a lunny after well taking to a mirror all day. I can assure you that isn’t the case how otherwise would she a tycoon of a multinational business. The other thing is pretty darn obvious in the basic fact that mirrors are inanimate object so they can’t talk not really like open their mouth and ask back to you. I can and will confirm that she definitely wasn’t and isn’t a lunny. It’s just the usual type of thing; showing women too be mad and stupid. Nothing new there I guess! She isn’t a naïve woman I can tell you that. It is always business and work work work all day long – even throughout the night.

There is also a logical explanation for the hunts-man scenario; he was my uncle so I dough he would have de-hearted me. He was simply out to get some raw cash to avoid the taxman because in these times of austerity he has to make  something to be able feed his screaming kiddies. Basically, he was hired by a guy who claimed to own the woodland, so my uncle hustled him big deal. I wasn’t ever the hunted and will never be soo.

In the movie they actually made my g-mum an old sinister woman how pathetic is that! She wasn’t a threat to nobody. There are so many things I could say about her – being real darn cool and funny too. Really love that woman. She gambles for fun you know. Soooo COOL! Begged us too go live with her she came to our den and off course we said no since the forest is our home. We watered her flowers while she was away on holiday. She was never sick, she is as fit a robin. Traveling A LOT she goes let me tell you, cruising all over the world on a ship, which thank God haven’t sunk. 

In the meanwhile…

There was never a case of she went off to live with the dwarfs. With that being out of the way I can tell that I didn’t turn up to make their beds and do their launbery. No serious way! I had no interest whatsoever in doing any of that typa shit.
I was actually there to check out their stuff. My brother needed an iPhone or a walkie talkie at least. I was also sending them a message – they shouldn’t trespass into my territory. Although they are a group of man they can’t have my land so better stay well away. Turns out they were all investment bankers you see so I got a few shinnies and other stuff too.

They had all invested in my mothers tourist business you see, it seems she was attracting peeps from all over the world to come see her castle n’ her pasture land. I ain’t ever been interested in money or any of that stuff ever. If you haven’t yet realised that we are anarchists me and bro. We can trespass anywhere and everywhere we want.

We might sometimes reside in that crib of a castle estate like a princess and a prince but well honestly most of the time we just rough it up in the wild forest, crawling through the mud, getting branches and weeds on our clothes.

We make ourselves a den out of branches and sticks and eat boiled nettle over the open fire. I was always too radical, too out of place and well that’s why I had to get away with lil’ bro’. I might as well add that we are troopers we are. If you ask me I was the only sane one and bro’ too of course. He didn’t make it on screen – what insanity! He could practically be the hero as his life adventures are so miraculous.

Started to grow fruit and veg in the forest so we have stuff to nibble on. We have both turned veggies. I tore up my silk gowns to make sheets, a picnic blanket and a canopy for summer as well.

I got myself some new gear from the eBay – pretty damn good stuff!
Little sheepskin botties,jelly candy wellies,a silk scarf and a lil hoodie…
My g-mum in her free time made brother a knitted woolly jumper and he has an id chain too

One day this lost traveller shows up, we could see he wasn’t from the area with his dark onyx colour. He asked us if we could help and we laughed in unison.

‘We know these fields from back to front’

His bought one of those converted barn houses you see and while he was speaking, I was crunching on an apple a lil’ too fast – choked on it. That scarred him out of his mind! Brother said the traveller had a crush on me you see, what a thing, really made happy.

We were quite a team, brother and me so he took a liking to us straight away, inviting us to leave in that barn of a forest hut. Lil bro and me threw out his furniture – it was no good. We recycled it off course! He didn’t mind a bit – well if he did he definitely didn’t say it. Our new project was to make stuff out of little scraps of wood and fabric. Oh by the way the traveller’s name, his name is Rowan.  Wanted to marry me, he did and all but I wouldn’t have that, if he loved me he could love me without the bling!

I started a herb garden and wrote poetry all day. He nursed the forest and local animals. While in the mean time bro’ was learning how to drive a yacht! Oh very happy we were!

Stepma was having a little trouble with her business as competition arose from the Uk. Of course the clever woman she was didn’t let anything in the way. A smart plan she had – never had a seen somebody scheme so well. On the way she sent the mushrooms and in a jiffy the balance was regained again.

Parallel to that…

Rowan and me adopted one of those starved kiddies from Africa – actually twins. My mother hired him to because of his charm to entertain the guests. While at home we garden together and water the plants, the old fashioned way with the sprinkling watering cans and then we seat on the garden swing we put up together. On his days off he joined me in the winter garden where I wrote poetry, so did he and then we shared our creations. Sometimes we just spend out whole days under the sun with a home made throw. In time we made an animal shelter for rabbits, horses, squirrels those sort of Godly creatures.

I’m still eating apples you might be surprised to hear.
Well my love bakes me the BEST carrot cake EVER! along with the perfection of the kissing, snuggling and love making too!
He isn’t a prince, a knight or a white loaf guy –  just a lost traveller. Not one of those native normal people that’s so normal that they freak ya out if you get what I’m saying. I love that about him and always will.

That’s how my story went down.
Don’t believe anything else they say it’s all but fibs. No kidding.
I’m the heroine anyway so I would know right!

By Elena Kokonova

its a recent short story I wrote though i should share it with you. hope that you enjoy it. any feedback is welcome :) thanks