Chatter

A Character design for Magnus the Owl, a character from The Moon Fox, illustrated by Marie Denham. check out her tumblr here: http://mariedenham.tumblr.com/

M

the ghostly air between the cars

i checked the moon obsessively like a watch

legs like trees caught in a typhoon

my exhale hoped it would brush against your breath

my head never pounded, in fact it sang

something old, the thing that falls behind

cabinets

the letters that become too tangled

to ever write

the dreams that rise to be the debris

of the heavens

these things re-discovered through you 

I felt like the lonely soul embraced 

back into a fold

the most simple paradox

of returning but still arriving for 

that first time

you leaned back with your legs coiled

hair swirled, words tumbled,

it was as if my iris stretched to breaking point

by the light of a thousand houses

but instead it was just a lazy gaze

my direction

amongst some greying figures

tiny stones that are strewn around

I dreamt I knew what to say

I dreamt your heart purred in reply

Review: The Stone Roses: Made of Stone (dir Shane Meadows) - Noise

Review of Shane Meadows' film The Stone Roses: Made of Stone.

A piece I wrote for wearenoise.com on the Shane Meadows music documentary Made of Stone.

It Goes Without Saying

The debate was getting lively and from inside the mind Mr. Quote was ready to leave his house. He was fully prepared for the flight. He had been training for it all his life. His wife Chatty was waiting for him at the door. As he kissed her good bye,she was talking incessantly while he remained his stoic self. Noticing his nerves, she softly said "Oscar, don't worry. You'll be well received. We all know you're popular. Weren't you named after Oscar Wilde?" The walk from the Mind to the Mouth was a short enough one. However he wanted to take a steady stride and not rush out. So many thoughts and words stream out too soon. This business was all about the timing. He looked upon a nice neighbourhood in the Larynx. Chatty and he had once thought about getting a rent controlled Statement in that area but he wasn't sure about the area. He was quite vocal about the place failing to strike a chord with him. Stopping to freshen up in a recites-room he took a look at his own inflection and felt good. Confident. He was Wildean and people love Oscar Wilde quotes. He was lucky he was born into such a well respected family.  A piece of food, an obvious out-of-frowner, which had been staying in Lodges, (lodged inside a tooth actually) stopped him asking for directions to the Esophagus. Some people in the Mind and Mouth mistreated such foreign substances in their area but nothing bothered Oscar more than facial tensions so he was only too happy to help. "Follow the path you were on and keep to the cleft, past that Orifice building there and you should be fine!" Oscar then found himself staring at the tooth fields he'd have to navigate across. Lucky for him a breath stop was nearby. Waiting for the next strong Breath he amused himself by reading a newspaper, Tonsil Today which was a publication that was floundering after one of the founding partners had been removed. An editorial touched on the subject. It read: While we will of course miss one of our esteemed editors and wish him well in these troubled times all is still speechy keen here at the paper. We needed to collectively clear our throat as it were, and this was felt to have been the path(ogen) of least resistance. Don't reach for any lymphoid tissues as of yet however, the palate cleanser that we have planned in this issue will not only be a mouthful but shall be quite cheeky in places!

It was obvious this was them paying mere Lip-Service to a disgraced colleague. Oscar sneaked a quick peek at his favourite comic strip Jawbone as the 214 Breath arrived. It was lucky for him too as a saliva shower was just starting. The Breath drove next to Timbre fences and vocal tracts could be seen out in the fields. He heard a Lisp behind him remark, "I'd get the breath more often if the frequency of them improved." They reached the tongue and Oscar prepared himself for his flight. If successful, his Quote would soar in the debate and punctuate some fundamental point that could win the day. He'd hang in the air, having made his mark and would eventually seep back into the mind and be back home before his absence was noted by the Mention family down the street. The tongue launched Oscar and some other Phrases into the air but as they were just getting shy of the mouth, the engine and the speaker stuttered. Oscar felt his body being mangled and distorted as only half of his being was uttered. He was mumbled beyond recognition and as he fell from the argument into the seas of obscurity he thought about Chatty and how she should have married her talkative ex-boyfriend Luke-Quacious. Wildean quips couldn't save him now and due to his now misspoken nature he was wit-out hope as he plummeted to his fate. It was then his panic subsided for a moment and his training kicked in. He quickly looked under his phonetic seating and discovered something that would save him. Placing an item on his back he let his body relax like a slurred sentence. He pulled the string on his Para-phrase and it slowed his descent into the forgotten remarks below.

This is a drawing from a book I have written and am trying to get published. Art by the incredibly talented Marie Denham.  mariedenham:

The Moon Fox- Children’s Book

Written by Emmet O’Brien and illustrated by moi

Living, A Lie

So you’re really doing it?

Yeah.

And you’ve thought everything through?

Jesus, yes.

Are you sure? I mean this isn’t something you can just change back if you’re not happy!

Would you just stop! I haven’t considered this lightly. This is what I want. Would you just support me in this?

Well look I’m here for you. No question. But this sort of thing...it makes me...uncomfortable. I’m sorry but I can’t help it. You are talking to the wrong person. I mean you know what I’m like...what my nature is...

I know, I know. A lot of people are going to feel that way but that’s their problem and it’s yours too. I can’t live my life as...a li...as this...just to make you feel better.

You’ve picked a name then?

Yes.

Care to share?

Ha, it'll be very accurate or maybe even Gospel.

Slandy won’t like it. Slandy can take a running jump. Or a rumoured one.

Well if you do this, you two can’t hang out anymore!

I know. Maybe that’s a good thing. Slandy is always talking shit about people. I've never liked it.

Oh wait a minute! Never liked it?! You were in cahoots! I saw the two of ye take apart many a person over the years.

Well I’ve changed. That stuff we used to do.I did it cause I felt I was supposed to. Playing a part that was decided for me by others...But no. I’ve changed.

Not yet. But you’re going to. You know...you won’t be able to wear the same clothes. They'll be less colourful...

I’ll have nicer clothes. Plus I dig the style. It’ll suit me.

And your family. Are they being cool about this?

Ha, well considering my family I’d have to expect to never know what they’re really thinking!

Well Fib is being...well Fib. I mean Fib has his own problems. He got married recently to Guess. She’s very much an Educated one, that girl but it’s still hard work. A member of the Lie family with someone who may or may not be right.

So it’s Guess-work then ammiright?

Har har. What about your Myther? How is she coping with all this?

She doesn’t want to talk to me about it and that’s fine.

She’s from an older generation. My grandfather Fable wouldn’t be able to handle this either. She keeps asking me, didn’t I learn anything from his stories?

When is the operation?

Honestly...and ha...I better get used to that word, I’ll be using it a lot more, I haven’t decided yet. 

I’ll have to tell Slandy..I mean Slander before it’s all over the Libel Express! But it’s happening? You’re really getting a text change?

Yes, really! The Lie you see before you today, the Lie you’ve been living with these last few years has decided to change its gender. This time next year I’ll be a Truth. Always honest, sometimes uncomfortable but never wavering from what is right. I want people to see me walking on the street and say: "Well aint that...the truth?" I mean I had fun, all my running around, living in that rough Falsehood with all those Frauds but my last relationship with Deceit showed me. I’m just not happy any more. So what do you think about that Ms. Prejudice?

The folly of Truth, as my mother would say.

She’s biased.

No, her name is just Bias.

The House of Words

Like the corner spider unable to understand this city No qualms to the task at hand I'd swear your eyes looked empty. It was a long walk to this place where saints sit in eternal hubris and because these figures never speak their stories will remain forever side-less. A strange fate that does not sit well Something fierce in deeper nature across this patchwork Earth while the mind covets the souls stature. When we are compelled and until truly embraced, even though the tongue is the house of words it still can not explain its taste.

Left

the first time we hold

on this earth

was to the most perfect

flirty dirge

and blessed are the mixed

signals

because it's where false hope

does flourish

in dreams to the left

and in the most solid gray

the amber eyes of the past

with flies out my mouth when i

should have something to say

I can not speak for too many of

this times so called men

but I echo the thwarted

when I say

get me something sharp that I can wield

again

Unhooked

Peter Pan soared off once again into the sky of Neverland, Tinker-Bell  was by his side and she left a trail of fairy dust in her wake. The nefarious Hook waved his grotesque left hand at the sky cursing the young adventurers name. It was a typical day in the ever fanciful realm and Peter's last minute defeat of his nemesis was something you could set your crocodile-swallowed-watch by. But as soon as the heroes disappeared from view something had changed. Captain Hook had long been accustomed to being thwarted but in this instance he took it more to heart. Over the next few days the crew noted a change in his demeanour, his florid speech's conspicuous by their absence and he had holed up in his cabin. Those that peered in, saw the once indomitable scoundrel seem depressed and despondent. Needless to say they were  concerned. "Why do I have to go and talk to him?" Starkey rasped dreading the chore. "Because aint you a 'gentleman' Starks? That's what we'se calls you anyway."  Starkey knew he was being wrangled into doing what no-one else wanted to do. He was as much a "gentleman" as Peter Pan was an old timer. "Awright, awright. If I'm not back by the cock crow, tell that parlour wench, of which I'm fond, Ol' Starkey luvs her." He knocked hesitantly at Hooks door. Silence. After a few seconds he decided to take the risk and he crept in. The opening of the door allowed some faint light to spool in and it startled the slumped over pirate. "Who dares...?" Hook bellowed, rising from the ale soaked stupor he had drank himself into. "Awright Cap'n, the lads and me, we've been worried Guv. Seems you're not yourself since ol' Pan took flight, that way 'e does." "Starkey, continue this egress and there's a plank with not only your name on it but I will varnish it with your blood, you thug." Starkey gulped in fear. Hook peered at him, his eyes adjusting to the new light and after a moment of pregnant pause, his exterior seemed to thaw ever so slightly. He sighed. "Very well, enter my chamber. We will converse. I doubt your mewling demeanour could make my mood any worse than it already is".  With a little more confidence Starkey took up a chair at the small table, that Hook was at. "We don' want to pry or be seen to be botherin' you Cap'n but we are worried." Hook gave a short hearty laugh at this. "Ha, well I can't fault the crew for that. It is true that as your superior officer I am to set a tone and I have been re-miss these last few evenings." "You always give good tone Sir. A plundering wicked tone. Best ship I've ever been on." "Forgive me Starkey, but isn't my ship the only ship you've served on that hasn't sank or been blown out of the water? Of course it's the best ship. The greatest ship in all of Neverland..." He put out his arms expansively as he said this. He paused and repeated the word Neverland twice more, with a wistful tone. Shaking himself out of his contemplation he poured another drink for himself and slid the bottle over to his visitor. Starkey promptly, if a little nervously, poured himself a tipple.  "I know what you sea dogs are thinking. Why has the latest fight with that rapscallion so upset our noble leader?!" "Well Sir, I know it's not the best thing to always be...um...losing.." Hook eyed Starkey with a vicious stare. "Losing? Losing? Is that how you perceive these events? God..." He stood up and went over to his nearby book case. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, he had just needed to move from the gaze of his underling.  "Do you like riddles Starks?" "Um...I can't rightly say I do Guv." "Well I'm in the mood for giving you one. So pay attention. When does a man face both defeat and triumph in a single struggle?" Starkey was stumped. "Em..I think I'm going to be a-needin' some more details Cap..." Without warning, Hook slashed his book case with his mighty claw knocking over several volumes before facing Starkey once more. "People think that eternal boy bests me at every turn. But they understand nothing. It's not about victory or loss with that one. No he and I share a greater destiny." Starkey was shaken by the outburst and was struggling to keep his composure. Hook was ruthless and dangerous certainly but there was a honour to his dastardly deeds. He had never seen such an outburst of anger before. Well without there haven been a crocodile or a Lost boy nearby. He stuttered. "It's about the hunt is it then? The fight." "No..no. You don't understand. Nobody, save one, does. I wasn't always like this Starkey. The Cultured and bitter scoundrel you see before you. In my youthful days I plundered. I pillaged. But I enjoyed it.  Sailing the seas, sacking ships. Witnessing wonders and sights even Neverland couldn't match. I may have been less than virtuous but I had a sense of beauty and appreciation for this now wretched world." He slumped back down into his chair and tapped his glass with his hook. "I thrilled to the new and to discovery. Until...I stole a treasure from a powerful witch that was." Starkey mumbled. "A witch. Like a real life witch." Hook replied. "Well she didn't have warts Starks but yes she and her cursed coven placed a spell on me following some thievery." "Cap'n, what did they do?" Hook hesitated. "Oh you silly man. Don't you get it? Peter Pan...is me!" Starkey was stunned and deeply confused. "Peter Pan is Smee? But that makes nooo sense..." Hook snarled in frustration. "NOT SMEE, YOU DAFT HALF WIT!  ME! Pan is me." The drinks had been knocked over but neither had noticed. "The spell the Witches cast, it took something from me. Deep down. My inner child. The part that experiences wonder and immaturity and keeps more youthful reactions ticking over in a persons mind. It sliced off a part of my soul and moulded it into that youthful and mischievous thorn in my side." "You're Peter Pan?? He is you? You are he?" Starkey was dumbfounded. "Why do you think he never grows up? He is a manifestation of infernal and eternal optimism and roguishness. Without my inner child anchoring my soul, I became this. A bitter and cynical pirate. Wealthy but never happy." "Does he know Sir?" "I doubt it. Even though all the clues are there. It's why he loses his shadow so often. Haven't you ever wondered about that? Why It's barely connected? It is what remains of my wickedness, a part that merely skims the surface of his brash exterior." "But then you can never..." "Win, Starkey? True. I can never win and the fight will continue for all eternity." Hook walked over to a window that peered out to sea. "On my stronger days I almost cheer for him. There must be something so wonderful about never having to face the tangled world of adulthood. You know...I was the one who named this realm...Neverland." "Flamin' eck," Starkey exclaimed. "I thought it was because of the magic here." "No, it's my own private little joke. it's because I want him to always be flying above such petty problems and grown up troubles If he ever "lands" then it means his magical existence is over. Kaput. Philosophers say good versus evil is the never-ending struggle. I face a stranger battle. Wonder versus Worldliness. Cynicism versus Optimism. I have been sad these last few days, not because of him escaping, certainly not bu because of how close I came to actually defeating him..." A heavy silence followed. Starkey's worried breathing had become quite audible and he wasn't sure what to say following the Captains confession. "Just go, you cur." Hook muttered, his tone resigned and broken. Starkey got up to leave, still reeling from the secret he had become privy to. He began realis what a precarious position he was now in. Would the dreaded Captain Hook allow an subordinate to walk around knowing this secret? He nervously looked back to make sure Hook was not planning a swift attack to silence him forever.  The Captain remained at the window staring aimlessly out into the ocean. Relaxing a little, Starkey once more turned to the door. It was then a sharp sudden pain went through his entire being and he looked down to see a dark hook plunged into his chest. It was black and featureless. He had been stabbed by Hooks shadow. In his last moments he realised the truth. Just as it was for Peter Pan, Hooks shadow was too a playful sprite, albeit a far deadlier creature. Starkey slumped to the floor, dead. His body was quietly thrown over board by the rest of the crew. They spoke nothing of it, all assuming he had angered the Captain and had been dutifully punished.  Hook marched onto the deck of the ship and was asked by the Helmsman if they needed to change course. After a second of consideration he whispered softly "Second to the right and straight on til morning..."

"Excuse me Cap'n?" The Helmsman hadn't heard the order properly. Hook responded.  "Oh no. No new bearing. We are on this heading. We can't change course now."

The Smoking Pun

Conversation was dead. His body was slumped over his chair when the the lights came back on. Silence was in his element, grinning but despite him enjoying the situation, it wasn't clear if he was the murderer. The last thing anyone remembered before the black out was a heated conversation about a burning issue, that of smoking. Cigar had piped in with his view while Pipe tried to get the last word. He was close but no Cigar. As master of ceremonies Conversation had been trying to be fair to all parties. He kept the language clean since Nico was still a tine-ager but when it came to the issue of Cigarettes all the relevant parties were lacking the proper social filters. "Smoking kills," Theory proclaimed,"And there lies the proof!" "Any idea who the murderer could be?" Query was concerned. She had been asking a lot of questions lately and nobody liked that very much. Theory flailed around the room while pontificating loudly. "What we need to do is find out the final quip before Conversation died. We track down that sense of humour and we find the culprit!" Everyone stayed quiet. The scene had been a mess of people shouting their views and trying to come across as more important than they were by blowing smoke.  "We never should have invited that man Tobacco and his 'Lobbyists' to this get together," Count Finite, the Lord of the Manor sighed, speaking to his trophy girlfriend, a model by the name of Tally Marks. "I believe Tobacco is involved in organised crime!" Tally was all set with her rich paramour but couldn't resist some idle gossip. "Well honey, I've spoken to Tobaccos wife InHayley and she seemed very passive in general, even the fact that she heard second hand about this party tells you something. I'm not so sure she knows what her husband is up to. Total smokescreen." Theory was concerned about his ability to solve this crime. He was just a layman, a working Theory, not a definite Explanation. He had failed those exams, because he could find any references or cite himself. "Everyone had a reason to kill Conversation, the guy never shut up," he wondered aloud. "Slip of the Tongue had tried to slip out earlier but that was just cause she was having an affair and was afraid she'd incriminate herself. Why she ever left Schtum is beyond me but I guess she didn't like being a kept woman." Suddenly the lights went out again and Theory was stabbed. "That's one theory eliminated," came a chilling voice from the darkness. His body dropped to the floor but this time the killer had been less careful. His first smoking pun that had killed the conversation had been said in a mysterious tone. The exact line was "That's just how Mr. Tobacco rolls..." followed by Conversations final gasp. No-one could figure out the identity or even the gender of the voice. But happy with his quip about Theory, the murderer had let a slightly grand accent come through and a tone which was distinctly snooty. As the lights came back up, the whole crowd turned to the same person. It was such a cliche, they were annoyed with themselves that they hadn't thought of it already. Who was always being picked on by Conversation when he was making jokes? Who had, due to his past been led ashtray and had definite loyalties to Tobacco and Smoking in general? It was so obvious, the evidence could match nobody else. The Butt-ler had done it.