The Aesthetica Creative Writing is now open for entry, offering both existing and aspiring writers the chance to showcase their work to a wider, international audience. Now in its sixth year, the competition celebrates creative writing and nurtures talent, inviting writers to submit imaginative work that pushes the boundaries of the two categories for entry: Poetry and Fiction. Submissions previously published elsewhere are accepted, and the deadline is 31 August 2013.

The selection of fantastic prizes includes:

·         £500 prize money – Poetry winner

·         £500 prize money – Short Fiction winner

·         Publication in the Aesthetica Creative Writing Annual

·         Complimentary copy of the Aesthetica Creative Writing Annual

·         A selection of books from competition partners

For more information please visit: www.aestheticamagazine.com/creativewriting

Published in Skirlags (Red Squirrel Press, 2009).
According to folklore from various parts of the world, including Haida Gwai; when the body sleeps, the soul flies out as a moth. Whatever the moth alights upon, that is what the individual dreams.
Skirlags was shortlisted for the Callum Macdonald Award in 2010.

Listen Here:

A poem inspired by folklore from Canada’s various First Nations, including Haida Gwai in British Columbia.

Listen Here:

 2 for 1 tickets for students who quote CANONGATE STUDENTS when booking tickets via Waterstones, George Street or on 0131 225 3436.

http://www.canongate.tv/events/event/226

one can dance about architecture

in fact when one dances inside one can’t help but dance about architecture, and i mean this in two ways:

first, you’re not dancing around the architecture, and unless you’re staying still on one spot, you are moving around the architecture – you are literally dancing about the architecture, and so you are, when you’re dancing, dancing about architecture. even when dancing outside you may still be surrounded by architecture, still dancing around and about it.

second, when dancing in architecture, what is it about the architecture that may inspire you to subtly interpret it in your dance? lighting, space, atmosphere – all things i believe will impact your dance, the things you interpret perhaps unknowingly, but you can totally do it knowingly in relation to the other elements of the dance

i think maybe in dancing one does communicate that, i think many things in society are a form of dance

for example i was discussing my job AS I OFTEN DO SORRY with a friend and i was talking about how me and a mate at work deal with the inane, petty full time managers – this mate of mine is very brash and upfront, any bullshit starts and he will resist it, but as a result he’s on his last warning and often has to go sit in an office and talk to a bunch of other high-up staffers

i have turned the tables a couple of times, i think – one time this mate of mine could have gotten into plenty trouble for swearing on the job as he often does, but this manager we had was swearing herself at times, but i wasn’t the only person to have heard her ( a few did, only a few, but gossip itself is as communal and natural as dance). because i was originally complacent and giving her the benefit of the doubt i think she found it ok for her to swear around me, but as for the animosity between her and my mate, she was more careful around him or anyone more obviously hostile to her. i instead waited ‘til we were all aware of her hypocrisy, and then commented upon it in the canteen – there was a quite heated debate about something not the most tasteful going on, other people had sworn, the moment this mate of mine swore she got uppity so i just calmly said “is that not very hypocritical?”, and she got flustered with me for a while, then in order to worm her way out of it she said something to the extent of “ok no swearing in the cafeteria”, which we all agreed to, but she couldn’t use this no swearing rule afterward on the shift as a way of petty power play or to get this mate of mine into trouble

and i was on a walk a minute ago and i was just thinking about how that kind of equates with the fencing i used to do – i used to be a jabber, no grace, just lots of very simple jabby movements all the time, eventually an opposing fencer might slip up and id get a point but i wasn’t very good.

there are two types of good fencers imo – those who use natural advantages and just focus on those, a former friend of mine was like that – tall, athletic, but no grace, and those who use grace and technique – these were not always the best of the best but i always had more respect for them, and it was because they danced – they would use their movements, their technique, to form some kind of pattern between your movements and theirs , compliant, almost submissive, and then slowly they would gain the upper hand – hypnotic, totally hypnotically, and when the right moment arose there would be a strike – some could be dramatic with the dance, others more subtle but it didn’t matter, because both were beautiful. and, well, i thought of that because i was thinking how at my job there is a bureaucratic system that favours those in the higher rungs – it allows for petty managers to wield quite undeserved power over those who, no matter how good they were at the job, didn’t like how they abused their authority – like my mate i was talking about, and yet i found it more effective to use the bureaucracy that allowed that to happen against them – to make them clearly define boundaries that they could not escape from themselves. it was a dance like that, a subtle dance to remove their jabbing force. when one fences, one must dance around the piste – the narrow battleground where there is not much room for sidestepping. the dance becomes a part of that, or rather, that becomes an inevitable part of the dance – the dance is about how in this restricted battleground, one can exercise a play, a performance, of power. the ones who never had to think about that and could just lean over and touch the head of your helmet (this fencing was epée by the way, foil and sabre have different rules) without ever having to dance, but how can one respect that? There is no beauty or grace in exercising natural privilege even if one gains so much prestige, rather the opposite – they never earned, but they could be beaten by the most meticulous and brave dancers, the ones who danced about architecture and power, even if the ones who danced lost, how could one not respect that? This subtle dance of bureaucracy i had performed lacked beauty entirely – retail sucks out the beauty of all things, well maybe not, but big chain retail does – but I still maintain there was some subtle grace, some quiet victory there – one steeped in patience, virtue. to dance for that manager, to smile and be compliant until i realized i had to stop giving her the benefit of the doubt, and then to wait for the right moment to strike. to redistribute power in the playing field defined by the architecture of the business – in both ways, i was very much dancing about architecture.

one can certainly write about music, but far more importantly, one cannot help but dance about architecture.

now if only i could bust out some slick moves on the dancefloor…..

Just counting the gaps between breaths
Making them fall in time
Making them lie on each other
Stacking them carefully, caressing each one

It seemed enough

As the sunlight cuddled in
To watch and feel
Every bit of skin on her bones
To take the now in tight and close

And to count the breaths
With a tapping of finger on breast
And count each one lucky

And somehow it seemed enough

Where you play both the guards and the inmates.

]]> http://bashabifraser.com/2013/03/25/incarceration/feed/ 0 shaunmilne89 http://bashabifraser.com/2013/03/25/severance-optimism-poem-ross-young/ http://bashabifraser.com/2013/03/25/severance-optimism-poem-ross-young/#comments Mon, 25 Mar 2013 13:35:51 +0000 rtyoung1 http://bashabifraser.com/?p=3416 Continue reading →]]> Not to worry – the spider creates and navigates new roads each day,

a brisk flurry of snow in mid-March keeps the stone skeletons at bay.

History repeats an imperfect circle.

The car complains twice or thrice but scarcely quivers, as the group inside shivers. 

Ice causes fissures, great deepening cracks, as the group, inevitably over time, replicates and divides like cellular mitosis, before the collapse. 

When you crumble, I’ll muster courage.

If you curse, I’ll stay courageous.

When you snore, I’ll love you anyway.

If you plagiarize my work, I’ll divorce you.

When you roar, I’ll rouse the riverine floods.

The Aesthetica Creative Writing Competition is now open for entries! The competition celebrates and champions creative writing, nurturing talent and bringing work to international attention. Aesthetica is inviting all writers and poets to submit to the Aesthetica Creative Writing Competition 2013. There are two categories for entry, Poetry and Short Fiction, and a selection of fantastic prizes including:

·         £500 prize money – Poetry winner
·         £500 prize money – Short Fiction winner
·         Publication in the Aesthetica Creative Writing Annual
·         Complimentary copy of the Aesthetica Creative Writing Annual
·         A selection of books from our competition partners

Submissions previously published elsewhere are accepted. Deadline: 31 August 2013.

Entry is £10 and allows for the entry of two works into any one category. For more information and to enter please visit: www.aestheticamagazine.com/creativewriting

There was a dark, dark room,

In which a young girl sat,

On the eve of her doom.

She lies in wait,

For her phantom lover,

To say her goodbyes,

Before she leaves forever.

Tick tock goes the clock,

It’s the start of a new day,

Tick tock goes the clock,

For the girl who lies in wait.

2013 competition
The Judge in 2013 is Jon Stone, poet, editor and publisher, born in 1983. He was commended in the 2011 National Poetry Competition and won a Society of Authors Eric Gregory Award in 2012. A full length collection, School of Forgery, was published by Salt in the same year and was a Poetry Book Society Summer Recommendation.  His poetry has also been included in numerous anthologies, including The Best British Poetry 2011 (Salt, 2011), and Adventures in Form (Penned in the Margins, 2012).

Jon Stone who will select the best collection from the shortlist, which will be no more than ten, and no fewer than six poets.  Jon Stone said about the Melita Hume Prize: “The recognition and nurturing of emerging talent is a vital service to our culture, but publishing new poets is always a risky venture, even for the mainstream presses. Both the generosity and wisdom, therefore, of a prize that offers both money and a first book deal cannot be understated.”

The 2013 competition is now open, and closes at 5pm on Monday 13 May 2013.  The prize is free to enter, and submissions will be accepted from anyone of the requisite age, of any nationality; the poet must be resident in the United Kingdom or Ireland.  Manuscripts must be between 50 -100 pages and work must be previously unpublished in full book form.
The 2013 shortlist will be announced in July 2013 and the winner will be announced in September 2013.  The winning collection will be published in Spring 2014.
For entrance details see below:
http://www.eyewearpublishing.com

The door clicks, locking us into place,

We sit on display for all to see,

As we follow the pinewood box to its burial,

The unappreciated music of rain comforts my dry soul,

Reminds me that I’m home,

I am safe.

Looking up, I catch a sympathetic eye,

On the bus, she looks to offer condolences,

She shows me that she understands.

The cold, pale sand stretched out around the shore line

Holding one solitary figure,

Walking slowly along its surface,

Hair blowing in the breeze.

The heavy grey sky frowned in anger,

Watching the commotion of the icy waves

The full weight of the water

Crashing down upon the shore.

The bitter breeze hit like needles

Tugging at exposed skin

Inspiring the need for hats and scarves

And yet wanting the scarf to unravel.

It’s a ghost story competition, with a first prize of £500 and a deadline of May 31st. All the details are at our website, here:

http://www.thefictiondesk.com/submissions/ghost-story-competition.php

Octavius is looking for prose, drama and poetry from any student studying at a Scottish college or university (regardless of age, studied subject or award level). Submission guidelines are available here: http://www.octaviusmagazine.com/submissions

With more custom artwork from Forevermore Tattoo Parlour’s Roberto Poliri and a stunning new website by designer Daniel Ness, Issue 2 of Octavius will continue to be a stylish showcase of Scottish writing talent – please help us spread the word and get your submissions in now!

This is your land.

You survived graceless tides

of invasions and retreats;

tin-can bazaars where old men mutter your history;

the stadium filled with toothless mouths.

They shine torches into your irises,

search for half-truths;

clicking their throats and guns;

so afraid you might speak,

your tongue loosening its chain of memories;

open palms revealing the seeds of your thoughts:

golden fields, scented shaftal,

mulberries, and the wind

whistling its music through your bones.

This is your land:

rose pink thighs of mountains,

warm narrow valleys that, each night,

draw down a thousand molten suns.

Here you bleed

your dark rays into the rivers, singing

the song the world forgot,

your voice smooth and round as an egg,

big enough to birth continents.

Yet they would rather you dumb,

draped in shapeless cloth, bent double

with the weight of your children.

Easier to believe you are an apparition:

Al Khatoon – all backward feet

and dank suffocating breath;

enchantress of men,

deliberate and impossible, whose beauty

must be confined

to that small dark cave,

that narrow opening where all life begins.

But look –

the turquoise lakes are full of stars;

braceleting the mirrored domes,

shining on each mosaiced path

like a thousand brilliant teeth –

Al Khatoon is smiling:

This is your land.