Steampunk fiction, reviews and interviews

Posts tagged “ravens

#MythpunkMonday: Monstrous Punk

Happy #MythpunkMonday! And happy Halloween / Samhain / Candyfest, whatever you happen to be celebrating at this time! In my house we use this time to remember our dead, to explore liminality and, of course, to stuff ourselves silly with sweet treats! We’re lucky enough now to live in a community where the whole neighbourhood hypes-up for trick or treating and everyone decorates their houses and gardens and opens their doors to the little goblins and witches who drop by to wish each family the best of the season – it’s like carol singing with a ghoulish twist!

So here is a little snippet from Mahrime, the title piece of my mythpunk collection ‘Mahrime – mythpunk for monsters’ . In this part a city girl makes a pact to save a nearby forest, each night she lets a scarlet cord down from her window for the monsters who live within it to climb up and they reward her in an unusual way…

 

You would think I cracked the treasure case open and sucked out the gold, but I was afraid, afraid of stains and questions, afraid my mother would find out about these secret midnight monster feasts. So instead I opened my mouth up wide and carefully, carefully swallowed each egg down whole.

Whole, the eggs of Del came into my warm belly and my flesh cradled them like a bowl of olive wood, my womb knit around them like latticed ligaments of vine; safe, warm, nourished… it should have been no surprise when they hatched out, the fledglings scraping my tissue raw as the forced their blind passage up through my vocal tubes and tore out of my horror-stricken mouth to flop, drenched and heaving onto the breakfast table.

In front of my mother, these fledgling crow-gods scrambled from my mouth and I could not hold them back. But mothers are used to these things. She narrowed her eyes at me, did I not think she had been young once? Did I not think she too had longed for trees and monsters and given birth to sky-gods in her time? And had not my grandmother done as she would now, stuff her daughter’s mouth with wormwood and gilead, with nightshade and mandrake and bind it shut tight with ribbons torn from her own scarlet dikhlo?

All this she did and then she cut the red cord.

I slept, falling in my dreams through the barbed gullet of a beast that was a city that was my mother that was seven little queens with seven little axes all hacking, hacking at my scarlet life line, all trying to sever me from my beloved monsters. But I laughed as I spun through their loathly innards because even in sleep I felt them; my little ravens, my little gods, pecking away at their human-girl prison, gorging and scraping at all the cumbersome weight that held us all pressed into this room, this house, this city on a hill.

Peck. Peck. Peck.

I felt the breeze stir through me, the flutter of their strong, soft wings striving through my rib cage, the thrust of bills chiselling against my teeth and I woke to find myself cleaned of all my superfluous flesh, gleaming in my bones, seeing with a thousand yellow crow eyes. Still they scrabbled and flapped and pushed the boundaries of all that I still was until they carried me up, up the chimney and out into the sky above.

 

If you enjoyed this snippet you can read the whole story here on Vocal…

https://poets.media/mahrime

And if you’d like to buy me a brew to help fuel my next outpouring of mischievous mythpunkery you can find me on Ko-Fi

https://ko-fi.com/pennyblake

 

Thanks for joining me for another #MythpunkMonday and do feel free to join in and share your own / others mythpunk creations either using the hashtag or in the comments here!

 

 


Elevenses: Poe vs King?

Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Max and Collin’s corvidishly cordial and avidly aviational parlour located in the splendidly scenic city of Lancaster, Mor Ire.

True, perhaps, some have called it a festering featherbed of fiendish flights of fancy filled with remorselessly ravenous rouges, but we consider that such people are merely embittered that they have not yet received an invitation.

You find us at this deliciously eleven o clockish hour, debating the age old riddle:

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

We can’t for the life of us imagine why the answer to this riddle has plagued humanity for so long! Why we’ve only been working on it for the last 48 hours and already we’ve come up with a most excellent list of possibilities:

1) They both begin with R

2) They both have two legs

3) They both employ feathers in some fashion

4) They both produce flat notes

5) Neither can be counted upon to take the weight of a gentleman’s elbow

6) Neither is a dependable cache for your illicit Tiffin

 

Feel free to add your own possible answers in the comments section.

 

Now, as we are all stark raving ravenous here in the parlour, it is just as well our lovely werewolf butler, Klapka, has furnished us with some Gothic Goodies as we continue our irreverent Poevember celebrations…

ravencookiestepxsteplogo.jpg

This beautiful cookie tutorial is by Mary and Brenda, the cake girls, click on the picture to go straight to their recipe!

Ah, delicious, and now for some audacious audios to usher in the afternoon, something fun and whimsical perhaps?

Well, that’s a tough contest! Who do you think is the winner?

We will see you back in the parlour on Thursday when we will be All Punked Up With No Place To Go but our dear witch Mrs B will be in her soup kitchen tomorrow with one of our favourite Author / Artists Lynn Cecil! So, until we see you again, please, be always,

Utterly Yourself