Sauron’s Equilibrium

The shadow permeates this realm, each eve,
The conqueror of everything we saw –
But see no longer, until dawn’s reprieve,
Revealing once again what reigned before.
Our meagre preparations for the night,
The bolted door, and lover’s dread embrace,
Are lies before the fading of the light,
Which seeps inside and bids our world displace.
Or so the Shadow’s agents would contend,
But shadow can’t in isolation grow:
Without the light, the shadow has no end –
Nor can it shape, nor any substance know.
So turn the switch, and beckon in the gloom –
Let shadows have their life – until we light the room.

Phase Three Pre-orders

I’m pleased to announce that I’ve been working on a new stand-alone novel, and trialling a new distribution model to accompany it.

Phase Three is a science-fiction story that explores a near-future Earth and the implications of our emergent technologies through the eyes of four unique characters. It’s still in draft form, so the blurb is currently a little vague to avoid spoilers, but here goes:

Cover-PhaseThree-DraftThe world has an addiction. Augmenting reality – augmenting ourselves – averted a looming energy crisis, but it has become something more than that. “Overnight equality,” promises the slogan, and what’s a decade or two between advertisers?

We redefined what it means to be human, then bought our own bullshit retail.

But the physical world still exists, however much we stare into the infinite. People yet remain, living outside the reality bubbles we create. And so do the consequences of our inattention.

Three individuals, each a casualty of flawed implementation, face intimate, inconsequential decisions in pursuit of their goals. Then there’s Gordon, who simply wants to escape his past without being killed.

And their actions could unravel the world. Or save it.

Sound good? Want more? Well, you can read a sample chapter and meet the characters at the link below. Better yet, you can pre-order a copy (or three) and help bring Phase Three to life.

Read and support here: www.inkshares.com/books/phase-three-2584

You can also read my interview with The Warbler, a book review blog that’s also worth checking out, which touches on the background of Phase Three and my reasons for choosing to trial the Inkshares model.

The Warbler interview here: www.thewarblerbooks.com/featured-author-peter-ravlich/

Poetry round-up – April 2016

Below you can find a few of the Twitter poems I’ve posted over the last month.

I’ve been hard at work revising the second volume in The Fallen Mythos, but I’m taking some time to refocus on my science fiction novel in progress, which happens to fit the bill for the Geek & Sundry Hard Science Contest. Starting April 4 (or 5, local time) I’ll be spamming you all with plenty of info, and I’ll create a separate post once that’s up and running.

When writing poems for Twitter, the character limit doesn’t often leave space for a title (or I’m just greedy) so the poems with single-word titles are titled with the prompts themselves, whereas I cheated and posted the remaining poems as images.

Promptless

I string the tinsel
haplessly
on a branch
without a tree –
or a tree without
a bough –
and wonder where
it glimmers now?


Striking

What strikes
me the least –
aside from my wife,
she says –
is the blow
that foiled expectations
are meant to land.


Ignition

To touch
the fuse
then stand
in silent mastery –
or subtle self-deception –
as the flame ignites
and your eyes
burn


Of your former self

Tap, drop, sear
me and I will shatter
shards of viscous
potential broken
exposed and raw

but when you hit
that singular
solid place
the one
that will not be moved
the one
you always find
your fiercest blow
is but a breath


Ethereal verse

The sidewalk slick with druken dreams
– or sick, look out – don’t stand in it!
While poetry caresses scenes
your feet can tread in real shit.

So what’s the humble scribe to pen,
or arsehole, if we’re being fair?
Retire your lofty muses, then,
and let the shit be the idea.

There must be more, your instincts say –
the world a radiant, hopeful sphere,
and pretty words can still convey
the miracle of being here –

Yet even now, your shoes are stick,
and wiping reaffirms the smell;
So see the beauty in the muck:
Aim for heaven, but speak from hell.


Consensual text

“It wasn’t defiance my dear
when I said I’d prefer to wait.
If a no is so hard to hear
that you have to negotiate –
your rhetoric urging me try
and unpacking your need to mate –
then I’d better revise my reply,
’cause I’m now in a passionate state:
Go fuck yourself,” she said –
but her tone made the means
deflate.

They call it torture

When the droplet

falls

over and over
charting illusory impressions
on your face

So why is
your memory the illusion
that draws these droplets
from my eyes?

And where is the torture,
if not in our grief,

the dropping,

and the late that
forms below?