Speculative Fiction Centre

"The soul sets its own horizon..." --Alexander Dumas

A Sixth Lesson in Magic

by Kristine Ong Muslim

 

 

Drag the barrel

where our names

and allotted lifetimes

are carved on the surfaces

of little white balls

the size of pain.

 

Tilt it and expose the mouth

of the god who spins

the variations of the seasons

to amuse us,

 

while its gnarled left hand

draws the names,

the measured syllables of last breath,

and the numbers

out of the drum.

 

 

 

Moths

by Kristine Ong Muslim

 

 

Pitiful and angry and very afraid,

the tiny brown moths huddled before me

while I wrote love letters deciphered

as insincere prayers under the white

light of a plastic desk lamp.

 

"Life is a nightmare train," I told them

every night. "It will take you everywhere

at a speed of its own choosing,

will never wait for you to find out

how far it can lead you away from home."

 

And always, the voiceless moths stayed

with me, still waiting for the time when

I would grow tired of having them around

and finally set them free. I gave them hope

all the time, told them lies.

 

The moths lost their true faces many years ago:

the half-remembered faces of the missing ones,

the friends and lovers who had betrayed me,

all the beautiful ones I chose to give wings

so they could flit around me.

 

 

 

Strange Baby

by Kristine Ong Muslim

 

 

The baby liked them

with their heads off;

the housekeepers

had to decapitate

the birthday clown first

to make the child smile

for the family picture.

 

 

The Darkest Magic

by Kristine Ong Muslim

 

 

You spill your secrets--clattering like

cheap beads on white marble halls.

A river here, a mountain there:

there is nothing that you cannot create when

there is too much magic and too much time.

 

For entertainment, you have saved them all

from the flood that you have seeded and grown

in your basement of wishing wells and rune tablets.

Your heart swells to let your dark-eyed children

inside your cathedral of glass and light,

 

where your words echo from the mouths

of your appointed prophets. You give

the desperate cinder girls jeweled talking

mirrors, and you watch them grow

into your fair-skinned likeness.

 

In between seasons, you try to make the golden

flowers stay, but autumn always wins in the end.

Unable to die, you look down to where

your reflection on the water begins,

but the ripples deface the image away.

 

The darkest magic will deliver you from harm,

and still you wish to rot, wish to drip

the juices of your decay down

to the permeable earth where the dust

and the bones of your people are burie

 

Third God

by Kristine Ong Muslim

 

 

Tides and swells

are only for little

gods who are content

of pushing and pulling

with no harm done.

 

I breathe hard, exhale deep,

and blow twisters to kill

those little gods at my feet.

Bio

Kristine Ong Muslim's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Coyote Wild Magazine,  From the Asylum, Jupiter, Kaleidotrope, The Literary Bone, Spinning Whorl, Tales of the Talisman, and previous issues of Speculative Fiction Centre. Her publication history: http://www.freewebs.com/blackroom8

 

She co-authored an illustrated chapbook collection of genre poems for children, Oddities (Sam's Dot Publishing, 2006), which is available at The Genre Mall.