Image result for space painting

Tracing the electric scythe

Of eventide across Earth’s sky

No flight so slow as thought below

On wings as those of Ain’s arrow

In distant solar fields alight


Image from Arecenze


Ksarveel, splayed fingers,

and breath arrested, staring

through the void both near and far,

in alien lights yet glistening

she recalls the warmth of a star

But there Earth’s detritus spinning

about a whorl of Lethe’s conception

rocks and silky gravel hissing

without sound upon the Sun’s extinction

all about its inky heart and rim

She, naught but ambient life

in food plucked and flesh contrived

knows death by nanoseconds of non-light

bursting lungs through photons sinking

from star to maw, from day to night

Parallel Outlet: 9

Star Citizen, game, space simulator, battle, sci-fi, spaceship, screenshot, , 4k, 5k, PC, 2015

“We are almost there,” I say but everyone else around me says “bah” because they do not have the mental capacities of someone who has lived through three centuries and a couple of nightmares.

What will sentient beings look like in 500 years from now? 1000 years? The narrator of The Starlight Gate has me wondering from the very start.

She seems to be somewhere far out in the cosmos and is speeding towards an end that we cannot really understand. She is made of metal and flesh, but in what parts and measures? I wonder about the universe around her and the notes of cynicism that I hear in her voice.

I relate well with introspective characters, and Eric from Walls of the Underground is continually showing or hinting at other worlds through introspective voices. Even in dialogue there persists an air of intimacy.

This results in some tantalizing bits and pieces. If you are in the mood for short stories, take a look at Walls of the Underground.

“Goodbye, I enjoy abandoning you as much as you don’t.”

Omanon and Lir – 2 of 2

Continued from Omanon and Lir – 1 of 2


So Lir descended, his long form slipping into the water. Omanon watched him and he glowed. When he dove she thought on dolphins and flying fish, and then he smiled and walked from the water onto the land, just as she wished. The droplets streamed from him and he laid down in the sunlight, growing dry and warm and crusted in sand. She thought on reptiles basking, and seals covering the beaches. Then he walked over silt and rocks, and over solid earth, letting her see hills and mountains before he returned to the sea.

Creatures and plants that she had seen when he walked the land sprang up in his footsteps, and when he slid into the water again there were fishes and corals and whales. They nosed the depths and found the currents while Omanon watched them and watched Lir, who floated on his back unseen and unfelt by the growing planet.

Whether the planet grew more out of her imagination – her spectral memories – or out of the computer, she did not know.

The light came and went. Lir drifted in the ocean of Omanon’s thoughts, his body a patchwork in the ripples made by water and light. And though he soon found land and stretched out, content in sun or in water as she had envisaged, still he asked.

“What next, Omanon?” Continue reading “Omanon and Lir – 2 of 2”

Omanon and Lir – 1 of 2

First I would like to thank the editors of the Blue Hour Anthology for publishing one of my poems – For Aurélie.


Lir drifted in the ocean of Omanon’s thoughts, his body a patchwork in the ripples made by water and light. And though he soon found land and stretched out, content in sun or in water as she had envisaged, still he asked.

“What next, Omanon?”


The computer hummed around her in the black, and whenever the vast processing banks sighed that was the only measure of time. She was suspended, her seat only another figment of the black, and she imagined that the vague sense of motion, of her surroundings sailing or hurtling on, was what kept her heart beating.

She did not know how long she had been there, but with her eyes open and unseeing it could not matter. She stretched one limb; in the absence of feeling, of any external stimuli, only within herself could she assume that there was motion.

She desired sight and motion. Continue reading “Omanon and Lir – 1 of 2”

“I Wish I Were”

This is from the Daily Post’s Weekly Writing Challenge, to finish a sentence beginning with “I wish I were”:

I wish I were the sun on high

Witness to an eternity

Of twilights falling over Earth

And over humanity

Myself the roiling light that saw

Darkness take on form

Chaos nursing galaxies

While my body warmed

Time in another measure,

If I were this planet’s star

My lifespan made tangible

A light-year near and far

For I would know vast distances

And universal beauties

And after human empire

I would learn what is to be

© 2012, Elizabeth Cook