Won't Let You Go

Written on the same day as 'Lease of Life', was obviously in an optimistic frame of mind.

Won’t Let You Go

There was always something there,

Though at first we knew not where,

That extra step I should have taken,

I thought I had time, but was mistaken

I lost that chance, I’d given up,

A well run dry, an empty cup,

Against all odds, my fortunes changed,

Contact resumed, those texts exchanged

I soon realised, that this was fate,

Suppose after all, that it wasn’t too late

For us to have, what we had before,

Did I have this chance once more?

The future to all is but a closed book,

But with no more mistakes and a little luck;

I think we will last, because I won’t let go,

Perhaps we’ll be more, you never know

You understand me; not an easy task,

You understand the truth behind this mask

When I’m with you I know my mind’s at ease,

That loving glance, those chances we seize

I think it’s about time to seize the day,

Carpe Diem, my love shall never sway

As the sunshine sets in the cloudless sky,

This is my summer, and I think I know why

© Ben Johnson 2012.

Unititled

Wrote this one in February 2012 after a long break from writing.

Untitled

Frightened hope, ambitious dreams,

Unravelled slowly at the seams,

Loose threads, stilted prose,

Another glass that’s full of woes

Swirling smoke, it curls and climbs

In the distance, a church bell chimes

Faraway voices, jubilant hearts

Gravely ignorant, we all play our parts

Restless nights and weary eyes,

The gentle sound of anxious sighs

Idle liquor, a moonlit stroll,

The endless struggle for control

Constant pain, thoughts conflicted,

A grieved heart, so now inflicted

Neglected caution, foregone care,

Only so much, can one man bear

Another spark, yet darkness persists,

Drifting on upwards, it twirls and it twists

Within a few moments, lost to the clouds,

The poet’s existence, consumed by the crowds

© Ben Johnson 2012.

The Bones of Avignon. - Jefferson Bass

Synopsis: 

It’s the discovery that will make Miranda Lovelady’s career… if she can prove it. And the secret she’s unearthed is enough to convince Doctor Bill Brockton to abandon the Body Farm and fly to Avignon. The medieval city is picturesque, but deadly. When their colleague is found crucified in a ruined chapel, Brockton and Miranda become entangled in a terrifying conspiracy, far bigger than either of them can imagine. For the bones of Jesus of Nazareth would be the find of the millennium.

Review

The Bones of Avignon is the seventh novel in the Body Farm series, and is the most ambitious one to date. The writing partnership that gives its name to ‘Jefferson Bass’, Jon Jefferson – veteran journalist and documentary filmmaker – and Dr Bill Bass, a world-famous forensic archaeologist, is a fantastic collaboration, producing a wonderful blend of culture and history, juxtaposed with fiction. The result, it has to be said, is a truly thrilling tale through time.

Dr Bill Brockton, whisked from the routine of the Body Farm, arrives at the ancient city of Avignon, with no clue of what is going on. Not long after, he is wishing he had remained ignorant. Stephen, Miranda’s colleague and old flame, has a discovery which will change everything: bones that will threaten to destroy a secret that has remained hidden for two thousand years.

The reader, through terrific description and a ferociously paced plot, is taken on a sprawling journey; from the hidden dungeons of the Palais de Papes, to the Cathedral of Saint John the Baptist, which holds the infamous Shroud of Turin. We move on a journey with the characters as they strive to answer questions that for a long time have gone unasked. As they attempt to unravel the mysteries, there are those that are determined to stop them; many eyes watch in the shadows of the night, each with their own agenda.

From a kind-hearted priest that takes pity on the doctor when he receives some bad news, to the delightful couple that house Bill Brockton in the charming Lumani residence, the authors weave a rich web of characters through our tale. Painters from the past, their actions shown to us in flashbacks, a dangerous fanatic that plans to bring the world to its knees. Who can be trusted in a tale where one misplaced instinct could bring disastrous circumstances?

The Bones of Avignon is a story of murder and blood, death and deception. A combination of history and fiction gives the reader a tale rich with action, each page promising to bring new twists and turns in the journey to discover the true meaning behind the bones of Avignon.

4/5.

Changes

Wrote this one in September 2011 and it really speaks for itself.

Changes

People may change with the winds of time,
Yet I still think of us, your lips upon mine.
One moment so golden, yet frozen forever,
Raindrops they fell, as we stood there together.

In a blink of an eye, the moment was gone,
From that point on, it all began to go wrong.
A sense of distress, I thought I should go,
Suspicions confirmed; it hurt more than you know.

Yet despite the pain, it never ruined the night,
It's never hard to remember, that memorable sight.
So nervous, I held my breath; I had waited too long,
It was our defining moment; the chorus of our song.

Through it all we battled, problems we overcame,
The greatest gust couldn't douse our friendship flame.
Years that with you, have been the best of my life,
At the end of the day, happiness outweighs the strife.

I sit here and think of us, and wonder what's left,
My life begins to lack colour; it's lonely and bereft.
Promise me please, as I pray this isn't the end,
I miss you terribly even now, on you I do depend.

So as life begins to rush upon us, think of our good times,
Relax and sit back, as the final bell chimes.
As the curtain falls, the players bow; the final sun shall set,
I know not the future changes, but you I won't forget.

© Ben Johnson 2011

Friendship Comes In Many Forms

Here is a poem I wrote in August 2011 after I realised a certain someone would always be there for me.

Friendship Comes In Many Forms

Today was just a stark reminder:
Friendship comes in many forms,
Despite the anger, despite the hurt,
With you I can weather these storms

Relief that passes through my mind,
When I know that you'll be there,
Metaphorical shoulders to rest my head,
As my hands tear through my hair

A heart that bleeds, I long to scream
Such frustration I can't contain,
Yet every time I feel like giving up,
Your words guide me through the pain

I've stood resolute with nothing left,
Almost breathed my very last,
Then in my ear, those voices whispered,
Reassured, the moment passed

Saved from upon the very brink,
So melodramatic but it's true,
Battled on despite the hurt,
I owe so much to you

These words I write can't say it all,
But know your kindness transforms
Those broken hearts, those ruined souls:
Because friendship comes in many forms

© Ben Johnson 2011

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Shakespeare's comedic play, A Midsummer Night's Dream, was in fact my earliest introduction to the world of the great Bard, William Shakespeare, although at the time, when I was around nine or ten, I imagine that his greatness was far from understood by me, or indeed any of my class-mates, when we were told we would be performing in a school production of it. This mysterious 'Shakespeare' was far from known to us, and I was worlds away from understanding his reputation and genius.

In essence then, the girls were excited about getting dressed up, and the boys were mainly content with the competitiveness of securing the 'best' parts. Well, I say this - but it's quite possible that in some early display of geekery on my part, it was simply I who became anxious over who should get what part. Some childish whim that to have a great part would be to get one over on my friends. In the end, I got the part I wanted - that of Puck, or Robin Goodfellow - and with my best friend procuring the part or Oberon, we were ready, and the stage was set.

Eight or so years later, re-reading the play, I can't imagine that the language we used was the original, but nevertheless I do believe it's great that schools attempt to offer at least some sort of Shakespearian education to kids growing up. It's important, and I feel that everyone should have some knowledge of his works. The play itself is an enjoyable one, as we follow the events surrounding the marriage between the Duke of Athens, Theseus, and the Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyta; the adventures of four young lovers, and the antics of an amateur group of actors.

The fairies that inhabit the forest in which most of the play is set, meddle and manipulate all those around them, causing havoc. Shakespeare weaves a wonderful plot of love and betrayal, magic and marriage, set mainly in the depths of the night - where Oberon and his obedient, mischievous servant Puck, rule and roam at will. The lovers are merely puppets upon a string, subject to the mere whims of the magical creatures about them, as they argue, love, and trade blows, unaware of what's really going on.

In the end, then, what happens is never really their choice - the fairies will decide if the mischief shall continue, or if normality should be restored.

Edgar Allan Poe: Detective Tales

After studying 'The Black Cat' and 'The Tell-Tale Heart' by Poe last year, I was looking forward to reading some more of his short stories, and I wasn't disappointed. These two tales that I had to read for my Crime Fiction module, were written in 1841 and 1844 respectively; 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue' appearing in the nineteenth century periodical Graham's Magazine - and 'The Purloined Letter' being produced in the literary annual The Gift for 1845 four years later.

'The Murders in the Rue Morgue'

The first tale, 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue' is the the first appearance of the reclusive intellectual C. Auguste Dupin, and his side-kick; the unnamed man who narrates the tale. Much in the same vein as Holmes and Watson, these two spend time in each others' company, mediating on the issues of the day, content with living somewhat aside from the rest of society and enjoying their own company.

After hearing about the murders in the Rue morgue, Dupin becomes intensely interested in the case which according to the papers, appears to be unsolvable and offers no clues. Not convinced, Dupin and his side-kick set about investigating the scene of the murder themselves. For the narrator, things are entirely unclear, but as the mystery unfolds and Dupin's marvellous mind works to form its own conclusions, it becomes apparent that he has unravelled the mystery.

With a clever, unexpected ending, I found 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue' to be a fascinating and enjoyable read.

3/5.

'The Purloined Letter'

The third of Edgar Allan Poe's detective stories - the second being 'The Mystery of Marie Roget' - sets about its narrative in a completely different manner: from the outset the thief is known to us, and it is not the 'whodunnit' of traditional UK crime fiction, but instead the importance is placed on how Dupin sets about his work.

A letter has been stolen from an important aristocrat, and despite the police's best efforts to turn-over every last inch of the thief's rooms, they can not find what they seek. Somewhat reluctantly, they call in the help of Dupin, and the tale from then on is a story of narrow-mindedness and how the police have struggled because they can not see anything aside from ordinary procedure.

Dupin's thinking is different to that of the police, and as a result he is able to out-think the thief. In this tale, then, we see the idea of the detective having an 'intellectual counterpart' as such; an adversary that in some ways is Dupin's 'match.' Once again this indeed can draw parallels to the Sherlock Holmes mysteries, with the famous adversary Professor Moriarty.

Poe's detective stories then, are often attributed with being the forerunners for today's modern 'detective novel', and we can see why; it is clear that his ideas of the detective and of the investigative techniques he uses, influenced others, and are still present in crime fiction to this day.