Amethyst Poetry / Writing Saga # 14 / Poetry / THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND

The Ragged Writings of Everland, 2018

A Book of Amaranthine Poetry

The First Volume . . .   (This link opens/closes in a new Tab top of screen)

THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND:   VOLUME ONE

Volume One is illustrated by the author with approximately 60 Black & White Pen & Ink Drawings; 20 of these are full page drawings decorated with intricately ciphered encoded writings in THE EVERLAND CIPHER SCRIPT; (the Key is at the end of the manuscript.) 


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The Second Volume . . .    (This link opens/closes in a new Tab at top of screen)

THE COUNTING-FALL:  THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND:   VOLUME TWO

Volume Two:  "The Counting-Fall,"  illustrated by the author with hand drawn calligraphic ragged writings on paper... and scanned into the manuscript.  


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The Third Volume . . .    (This link closes/opens in a new Tab at top of screen)

ARKIAHH DREAMING: THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND:   VOLUME THREE

Volume Three:  "Arkiahh Dreaming,"  illustrated by the author with hand drawn calligraphic ragged writings on paper... and scanned into the manuscript.


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Below is an extract from the FOREWORD to this book explaining the 'strange' nature of these ‘incomprehensible’ poetic writings.                                           

A Definition:  n.  a ‘ragged writing’ is basically a poem rejected: being as it is an affront to the intellect, because the most used part of the mind can’t make much sense of it!  

    And so the rejected bits I began to call ‘ragged,’ because I was left in tatters: it seemed that people could not understand them and that this was a problem. 

   

   Mortified I gave up. Misunderstood and confused I didn’t write in this vein, for another two years. Then counting it all joy freeing love filtered through. Understanding came. And with it, acceptance, and I began once more where I had left off. 

   The sap rose again and more powerfully for having endured such a harsh winter. Up through the fiery pillar in the dark came ‘the force that through the green fuse drives the flower,’ (Dylan Thomas) and in a renewed creative energy, new leaves of writing began to appear from the pruned branches of my broken life. 

    But now it seemed that on the surface my 'ragged writings' were harder than ever to decipher; and were perhaps even more incomprehensible. But it was alright. It was alright. Delight washed over all that was written: I knew I was where I was meant to be - in the Unknown with Love - love all pervading, all present, all knowing. Confidence revived. The door opened. If art went abstract, but not without a battle, couldn't poetry, also? Although these 'poems' are not abstract, every line is full of known and intended meaning. But I experienced that my heart torn apart could carry my mind's every finding further and deeper, and that it wasn't necessary for the outer parts of it to understand.   

    I was shown the primary purpose of these poetic writings. It was not that they be literally understood, but that they literally make us littler; for the littler we are, the lighter we become; and the lighter we become, the happier we are, which isn't by more, but by less.

 

           
          Email:   judithdeverell@hotmail.com