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Epistle To Faeries Past
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Epistle To Faeries Past
A letter to a ghost of the past.
T J Rintoull
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW MY WORKS!
T J Rintoull, born 1983, currently residing on the Gold Coast in Australia, grew up in a combination of city housing, winnebago travelling and bush shacks, before entering the worlds of music, art and literature. Told often that he should have attended university to better himself, instead he devotes his time to working dead end jobs in order to pay the bills, and his spare time to creating music and literature. He confesses that although he loves to paint he has no ability with a brush whatsoever.
Currently T J Rintoull resides with his fiance in a small flat, as he continues to attempt a measure of success with his band and his writing.
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW MY WORKS!
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (43)
A Better Friend (Poetry) Poem for solitude and loneliness. [94 words] [Motivational]
A Haiku (Poetry) A Haiku [8 words] [Mind]
A Name Will Come (Songs) The first of many song lyrics to be included here - this written for the world today, for things we've lost, faith in ourselves and many other things - this is the title song of my band. [218 words] [Spiritual]
A Simple Hope (Poetry) A short poem I wrote while at work. [57 words] [Motivational]
A Sudden Burst Of Sunshine (Short Stories) Arty awakens on a farm with amnesia and is forced over a single day to come to grips with his former life. [7,122 words] [Popular Fiction]
Bald (Poetry) A complaint against nature and pattern baldness. [132 words] [Nature]
Bathroom Memorial (Short Stories) A rare moment of reverse joy in the life of a depressive semi-suicidal. [744 words] [Mind]
Brothers And Sisters (Songs) I was told, "good people don't like you" This was the result. [128 words] [Relationships]
California Gothic (Poetry) This poem is simultaneously a blighted personal love poem and one big metaphor for an attack on modern society. [155 words] [Motivational]
Cliches Are Still Feelings (Poetry) The entire poem is one big cliche nowadays, or so I'm told. Is it still relevant? Is it thematic plagiarism? You be the judge. [90 words] [Romance]
Downtime (Poetry) Lyrics to a song, written for my band. [164 words] [Motivational]
Fire Fright (Poetry) Read the poem please. [172 words] [Mind]
Goin Pro (Songs) Sarcasm, metaphor, this song is all of these things and more. Unless of course you're going pro... [63 words] [Erotic]
In Dreams (Poetry) Poem written at work, for nothing more than disillusioned ambition. [69 words] [Motivational]
Left (Poetry) It's not really a poem about breakups, although initially it would seems so. It's about more than that - interpersonal relationships falling apart, as well as a minor metaphor for the world at large. [152 words] [Relationships]
Moments To Remember (Short Stories) The first and last moments of true love... [683 words] [Romance]
New Year's Day (Poetry) This was written on the morning of the new year. [105 words] [Mind]
One Small Step At A Time (Short Stories) A glass-half empty kind of guy named Allan makes a big triumph in a small tragedy. [494 words] [Psychology]
Out Of Ink, Out Of Time (Short Stories) Tongue-in cheek short story about office work and accidents of quantum physics. [627 words] [Literary Fiction]
Poem For Poet's Sake (Poetry) A poem about the poet - striking out westward in search of something new. [99 words] [Mind]
Poem - Reasons (Poetry) Lyrics for a song. [179 words] [Mind]
Poena Acer (Poetry) Short Lyric Poem. [27 words] [Mind]
Poena Aetas (Poetry) As always, sophomore description of heartache and pain, this time expressed as a tattoo. [83 words] [Mind]
Poena Affectus (Poetry) Small collection of lyrics and poems, (also lyric poems) - many of these are untitled. [1,142 words] [Mind]
Poena Convoco (Poetry) Another metaphoric, or perhaps not so metaphoric attack on the modern world - but as always I seem to constrict its purity with personal memories. [120 words] [Business]
Poena Defendo (Poetry) Poem written while attending a carnival/field day in the heart of country pig hunting territory; these words were inspired by some of the people and imagery at the functions I attended. [77 words] [Animal]
Poena Flumen (Poetry) Of Rivers and Flowers and Life And Love and Pain. [87 words] [Spiritual]
Poena Labo (Poetry) On friends liars and life. [91 words] [Relationships]
Poena Speculum (Poetry) For the wanderer and watcher. [52 words]
Poena Termes (Poetry) A tree falling. A teardrop landing. [21 words] [Nature]
Poena Texo (Poetry) Second Collection Of Short Poems On The General Subject Of Pain - dealing with inner and outer turmoil, conflict and heartache. Deep. [364 words]
Poeta Postulo (Poetry) The poet's question of his feminist muse. [226 words]
Shopping (Short Stories) She went shopping - he was left home alone... [501 words] [Relationships]
Sleep Insane (Poetry) Continuation of California Gothic, but from a different mind, view, philosophy and life. [83 words] [Mind]
The Evening Red (Poetry) Do you drink....wine? [46 words] [Health]
The Golden Man (Poetry) Originally I thought to make this a story - but I thought it better as a short poem. [96 words] [Spiritual]
The Great Procrastination (Poetry) Self explanatory, really. [121 words] [Mind]
The Office (Poetry) I couldn't work out if this was a micro-short or a prose poem. The way it's written it's a short story, but I think there's too much rhyme, and it's a bit too short. Anyway, here it is for your pleasu... [474 words] [Mind]
This Marble Reflection (Poetry) Surrealism - in prose. [118 words]
Toad (Poetry) Poem - about a toad. [50 words]
Upon Waking (Poetry) Upon waking, this short lyric poem came to me. [60 words] [Psychology]
Wamphyrri (Poetry) Romantic sense of the vampire. [177 words] [Horror]
You Said.... (Poetry) Short freeform poem descriptive of the deserted wounded lover. [59 words] [Drama]
Epistle To Faeries Past
T J Rintoull
To a princess in another life....
It was never a bluff.
I told you it would happen, and so it did.
Do you think worse of me for telling you the truth? Should I have lied?
I gave you fair warning. More than fair.
Treat me good and I'll treat you better. Treat me badly and you'll wish you'd never been born.
Sadly, I've made a bit of a liar of myself. I wished often that I could be the bad guy, to treat you infinitely worse than the actions you had inflicted on me. To visit upon you the things you'd told others I had done to you - to be the basher, the rapist, the torturer. Unfortunately for my tough-guy persona, it simply wasn't me, and your stories were just that - works of elaborate fiction.
So, staying true to my inner nature, and regardless of my inner mental anguish, I lanced you like a boil. The cut was quick, clean, and excruciatingly painful for me.
How was it for you? I wish I could believe you when you tell me, if you ever tell me, but you were always the worst of liars, and so I doubt I'll ever know. Well, at least you were gone - I could worry about the anaesthetic later. It healed, eventually, but I remained forever scarred, and sometimes that scar tissue ached like nothing else - usually a signal the rains were on their way.
Nonetheless, I rediscovered the long lost emotion called happiness, and I was whole, at least, as much as a broken vase glued back together can ever be whole.
A discerning person can always see the cracks.
And now after four years I hear from a friend of a friend of mine that you're still doing your best to soil my name, and hurt me once again.
I tell you, it isn't happening anymore. Now, I think it's you that's hurting, you that is lashing out like you always did, but no longer in spite, but instead in desperation, a vain wish to be something other than ineffectual and completely miserable.
Misery loves company right?
After all, it's been four years - four long years since I ended your tales, your fiction, and removed you from my soul like the fetid cancer you were. Oh certainly I loved you, and to my chagrin, somewhere I still love you - not for what you are, oh no, I loathe that strange and fearsome creature, but the ghost of what you were, before you became what you had to become, that person I am still in love with. The hungry ghost of winters past continues to bite me sometimes, but I don't mind, I always did like a bit of pain with my loving. Not too much mind you, just enough to remind me I'm alive, and to scold me for living in the past, for not appreciating what I have in this, the present moment.
I hope this letter finds you either well, a matured and wondrous person, bright in the faces of your enemies - or dead, a corpse in the snow, somewhere far away where I can never see the life drained from your face. My reasons for wanting one of these two extremities, for wanting anything good for you at all? If you remain alive, I hope only that you might grow beyond what you have become, to shed your lies, your spite and malice, your foolish rage at nothing and everything, to finally be the person you set out to be. I promise you, the person you are is not the person you dreamed of in the springtime of our youth. And dead, well, it may seem coarse and callous, but, should you die and fade away, at least I can at last remember you as the creature of light and love that I met so long ago, and forget what it is that you have become.
Love never dies. It is simply a sad course of human nature that as we are twisted into darkness by the whim of our desires, we turn our faces away from love, for we can no longer stand to look in its direction. It becomes like staring into the sun. I know this, for I've been in the face of love, at both ends of my desire. I have stared into the golden light, and felt it kiss my face - and at another time, in another place, I had to turn away, for my corrupted flesh began to burn, and my blinded eyes knew only fire.
But unlike you, I've clawed my way back from that hellish pit where darkness seems like light, and demons seem better friends. And now, because I can again stare into the face of love with a smile and a warm embrace, I hope for the sake of your soul that one day, you too can do the same.
All my love
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© 2009 T J Rintoull
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