C.A. Jackson

22. Reformed, Christian fiction/non-fiction writer with a special love for fiction and magical realism genres. My favorite authors include Kazuo Ishiguro and Haruki Murakami.

https://open.substack.com/pub/colinjackson?r=1doyj5&utm_medium=ios

Writings

Followers

Following

C.A. Jackson

22. Reformed, Christian fiction/non-fiction writer with a special love for fiction and magical realism genres. My favorite authors include Kazuo Ishiguro and Haruki Murakami.

https://open.substack.com/pub/colinjackson?r=1doyj5&utm_medium=ios

Writings

Followers

Following

The Cynic on Love

C.A. Jackson

1 min read

Red threads of fate

Threads unspooled from flags

Flown high above the mark.

But watch her, hear her

Spitting molten iron.

I'll leave the red threads to the fools,

The banners for their noxious bearers.

Let others be entrapped by vain promises

Of love and tenderness;

Fools errands for the timid and faint of heart.

Nothing is sacred.

Nothing is pure.

All is dross....

Poetry

An Open Letter To Popular Culture

C.A. Jackson

1 min read

I would be anything for you except:

A salesman,

Postman,

Policeman,

Fireman,

Doctor,

Lawyer,

Butcher, baker, or candlestick-maker,

Tinker, tailor, soldier, or spy,

Politicians are liars and drink only ruin,

A barkeep I’d loathe, deal with drunkards and bruisers,

As for engineer, I only have half a brain,

While the side less travelled goes slowly insane,

Nurses are underpaid, work too-long hours,

A...

Poetry

Humour

Cold Water

C.A. Jackson

1 min read

Cold water feels warm when you’re freezing,

Cold hands feel warm when you’re lonely,

Death feels warm when the suffering subsides,

Or when reality takes its spindly fingers around your throat and chokes out the joy.

You drown in cold water and it feels warm and freezing simultaneously.

You drown in death and see darkness and day simultaneously.

What comes after, do you know?

Do cowards hang onto t...

Poetry

Unknown

C.A. Jackson

1 min read

Blanket: Black,

Speckled with semiotics

Dead-space between,

Linking points of density,

The words, the figures,

The esoteric whisperings

Of the unknown.

Sometimes Science

Wakes at night,

In terror of shifting

Shadows beyond belief....

Science fiction

Poetry

The Gods Of The Scrapers Of Babel

C.A. Jackson

4 min read

**I. The Constructors**

We wept when the culmination of ages came down,

Sweet irony, the toppling of the scrapers,

The jumpers of the heights fly loosed from bands of earth.

‘Twas the saddest of times, ‘twas the happiest of times.

Oh sovereign symbol of the great decay,

Oh flaming arrow flies true to its mark,

Oh nation state of decay

Judgment never lurks far from thee!

Oh happy hour of retributi...

Poetry

A Game Of Poker (or Election Talk)

C.A. Jackson

1 min read

It’s going to come out all right–do you know?

Good men cannot be played by these fools.

Even now we sit around the table this evening

I can tell they are bluffing,

I can see their cards

Their scheming

Planning.

It’s going to come out all right–do you know?

Our two-pair may not seem a flush.

But we’re ace high

And I can tell that they have nothing,

I can see their cards

Their scheming

Planning.

I...

Poetry

If I Were The Sun

C.A. Jackson

1 min read

Do you think the Sun gets lonely up there?

What does he do but sit

And grin upon this world for eternal day?

Do you think the Sun gets angry up there

Watching forever the rise and fall of nations,

The depravity of Earth’s vain creatures?

Do you think the Sun ever thinks to himself,

“One small flare, one microscopic point

In the scope of the Universe would blot this madness from my sight”?

I thi...

Poetry

Doors

C.A. Jackson

1 min read

Someday a door may close,

I mean, angrily slam in your face, close

Your nose will feel that itch, expectant of pain

Your body tensing,

Your eyes squinting shut,

Bracing.

Here the doors have no names,

The paths laid out before you have no way,

Sprawling this way, that-a-way, every which way,

The halls of eternity remain the same,

But once you move forward you can never return.

Endless slamming,...

Poetry

Guillotine

C.A. Jackson

1 min read

A guillotine for my right hand assures

That I might at least contemplate

The right next time before jumping in with both feet,

While I yet hold my hands up high above.

No follow-through from me,

Poor bloodless blade of guillotine....

Poetry

The Misguided

C.A. Jackson

3 min read

“They were wicked. You can’t blame me for it; for seeing it clearly. You can’t blame me for being able to discern the Truth while you sit behind your shadow veils. The blind can’t blame the sighted for their ability to see and their direction, can they?

“I am here today not to repent but to tell you how merciful I have been. I could have killed the lot of you—easily. And yet you were spared. For w...

Horror

Crime