To all the troops

To all the troops

Lest we forget what they have given,
Their lives in service for us to live, 
in freedom and safety and not in fear, 
for if we do it would have all been in vain.

For those who are serving and those who have served,
from us we thank you for what you have given.

The husbands and wives you left behind.
The mothers and fathers, who count the hours till their baby’s return
We think of you every day while your away.
And hope and pray you’ll retune one day safe to their arms and never go away 

To my friend , and hers, who are serving, I thank. And I pray to heaven or hell for their safe return,
To my friend who served, and came home safe to his two lovely children and wife.
To my good friends husband for staying safe .To her and their children for their support.
So here we say thanks to all those in service. 

Those who gave so mach and did not retune.
To your husband and wife, partner and parent.
To your children. These words can not and will dry your tears.
I stand and say thank you for or you and they have gave.

Shale will forget what they have given
I fear we will lose our freedom and safety
And all that they have given will all be in vain.

This is for our troops, the army the air force and the navy.
The fire service, the police, paramedics and life guards.
To all those in service and those how have served, home and away,
To the family’s of the lost.
We tack of our hats and Salute you all, for all you have give and all you have lost
We thank you.

Lest we forget.

©2012 sarah patel

Little shop of horrors. Audrey 2

Check out more of my art at MyTheoryOfTheCrows.Blogspot.com

Bad Dreams.

In the back of every ones mind is a room.
A room which door looks as if it belongs in a 80s horror film.
With a bright light that spills out from under and around the door. Lighting up the dark corridor that leads to it. A door with most of its paint hanging off and a dull blackened brass door knob. 
If you a look close enough at the door, You might see scratch marks, that remind you of Freddy Krueger, or it might just be a neglected unpainted door, or worse it could be there disguised as the rest of the doors in your mind
But still it is there, hidden away from your conscious mind, be hind practical things, like the speech you give at work when you answer the  phone,  the root from work to the gym, the recipe for your mums famous cake. 
Its there hiding all those things you thought you had forgotten, all the memories that you no longer need or want.
The next time that you wake in the night with cold sweats and you can not remember the dream that you were having, it is more then likely it is because you were standing in fount of that neglected door with its scratches and the light seeping out from behind. Whispered words from unseen faces asking, begging you to open the door.
As you stretch out you arm and your fingers reach for that dull blackened brass door knob, screams, shouting and the sound of a child crying (always a child crying.) can be heard and grow louder and louder, your heart races as your hand begins to shake as you grasp that handle, then some thing happens and you awake screaming, trying to catch your breath, with cold sweats, and the shakes, and not knowing what you were dreaming this door in the back of your mind might be the reason.
Some people can live all there life not even contemplating that this 1980s horror film door exists, others know its there and have learnt to ignore it, while others struggle with its existents and do there best to block out the thought with drink or drugs hoping that the darkness behind this silhouetted white lit door will not consume them. 
Some have even been brave enough to look behind or even walk into the room. Where some are make it out others are consumed with their own madness in their own personal hell. 
So the next time you sit down with pop corn and soda and watch Robert Englund diving through doors in children’s dreams. Think…  what 80s horror nightmare could be living in your head.
And who will it consume first. And who will survive.  

©2012 sarah patel

Searching for inspiration

Searching for inspiration.

I’m sitting a bridge wall over looking a canal, searching for inspiration.
I see the water flow below, grey dark and deep.
I wonder if there are trolls below.

People pulling trolleys loaded with boxes and bags, 
pass by heading for the market stalls.
A man carrying milk another with oranges and lemons said the bells of St. Clements… no no that’s already been done.
A man carrying milk another with oranges and berries, 
preparing for a day of teas, coffees and squashes

Small drops of rain fall on to my paper
leaving grey marks between the pages.

Two men fight with a rail on wheels
Filled high with clothes and covered with throws.
Another stands and watches, smoking a fag.

The king of beast sits silent and still 
As galloping stallions are frozen in stone .
Blacksmiths in bronze, with their uncompleted jobs

Shops and stools, dressed in red ,white and blue.
Which kinder stands out,
amongst all the black gothic cloths.

Security sit and drink a morning cup of tea,
In their British red phone box made of four,
Over looking the canal where feather up stream,
I am sitting on a bridge wall over looking a canal, searching for inspiration.
As a fine mist of rain comes down.

Tourist walk by with their umbrella’s, hat, bags and macs
Still tacking photos snap, snap, flash and snap,
Getting in the way with their over grown maps.

Eight thirty on the spot, two geese over my head, 
Making me flinch and duck as there so low.
“low flying duck” comes to mind as they miss my head 
and land on the water flowing below, grey dark and deep.


In the distance I see rising from below,
A canal boat painter red, green black and gold,
With plant pots on top, a floating garden I see.
Rising up in the lock down stream from me.

I’m sitting a bridge wall over looking a canal, searching for inspiration.
I see the water flow below, grey dark and deep.
I wonder if there are trolls below.
I tear the page from my book
As the rain hammers down it falls in to the canal and is lost forever.
So while searching for inspiration on a bridge wall over a canal,
All I found was that I got a wet num arse!

© 2012 sarah patel

fairys.

 

Check out more of my art at MyTheoryOfTheCrows.Blogspot.com

Standing on the picket line.

Standing on the picket line.

Standing on the picket line,
With an oil drum burning coal,
Standing all together,
shoulder too shoulder
Friends neighbours and family.
Solidarity.

Standing on the picket line,
Fighting for what we believe,
Shoulder too shoulder with our Friends neighbors and family.
We’re fighting for jobs and our livelihood.
This is our revolution
Solidarity

Standing on the picket line.
Sold my wedding ring today, to feed my family
Winters closing in now, yet we’re still standing tall
Shoulder to shoulder, for our fathers sons and men.

Standing on the picket line,
Breaking down our furniture to warm my family 
My son got arrested for hitting a copper in the head.
Fighting for his future, his family his livelihood.

Standing on the picket line 
Sold my wedding ring today, for medicine for my bairn 
We’ve only been out a year on this cold and stormy sea.
Yet we all still standing shoulder to shoulder 
on this ship named solidarity.

Standing on the picket line 
Trying to make ends meet.
When will this revolution ever fucking end.
We’re standing for our family’s
We’re standing for our sons 
We’re stranding for future and our livelihood
Solidarity.

Standing on the picket line.
With an oil drum burning cold.
The union caved in today .
We are proud to stand together, 
friends neighbours and family 
Standing shoulder to shoulder, 
Our heads held high, our yet hearts hang low, 
Shoulder to shoulder we all stand together
As we all go back down the mining hole.

©2012 sarah patel

Make Up Effects

Some of my make up effect created using Derma wax, black body paint, red body paint, and film blood B.

The Bullet wounds are my first attempt of using Derma wax. No overly bad.

The bite marks, now these are better. 

Lucifer's prayer

“There are many stores, each told by so many in so many in different ways. From the Far East to the modern west, each of them clamming that there’s is the one true God.
Who am I to judge which is right? 
I once used to believe, but now … Now I’m not so sure.

Abandoned by my own father, for what? Being disloyal or being too loyal?
My love for him made me rise so high and strong; did that not mean anything to him? My service? my loyalty? Obverserly not…
He told us too bow down to him and him alone, which we did with all our hearts.
But he cast me down. I fell so far, for what? Not knelling down before his new creation, his pets.
Why farther?

My brothers and sisters. Divided by our loyaltys. Those who obeyed and bowed down to them, and those that would not. As they could not understand why our father no longer wanted  them to serve him, bow down to him, Love him  as we had always done.
Why did you cast me down to an eternity solitude and darkness? 
Out of all of us that question your command, Why did you cast me down so far? I don’t understand?

I was proud to serve you, proud do to what ever you commandeered of me
You asked me to go to them, to help and guide them to you, and what did your pets do to me? 
They nailed me to a cross and left me to die. 
You resurrected me so I could stand by your side once more.
But What did you expect me to do father when you stood before us and commanded us to knell before them after what they had done to me? 
I had done as you had commandeered of me, I died for you. Wasn’t that enough to show my devotion… 
When I questioned your commandment you cast me to hell to be feared by all

(You sent my brother to help and guide them to them, and what did your pets do? 
They nailed him to the cross and left him to die! Yet you found it in yourself to forgive them. 
But not your own child. I would have died for you as had if that is what you wished. 
Instead you cast me to hell to be feared by all.)

Yet you fear me more them him! 
You forget that he cast you down to earth from paradise due to the sin of one, without a single thought for the rest of you pets! 
He sent plagues and floods. Yet you worship him hoping he will welcome you with open arms. 
You found it in yourself to forgive them. But not your own child.
Hell has no furry like heaven.

My name is Morning Star, the Light Bearer. I Am the first the eldest, the most loyal devoted servant.
See my power on high.

Forgive me farther for I have sinned,  forgive me for what I have done. For questioning your word. For not obeying you. I beg for your forgiveness and for you to allow me to return home. Allow me to server you as I once did. Please farther here my prey… 
I’ll do as you command of me…
Gabriel, Raphael, Cassiel, my brothers my sisters, forgive me  for dividing heaven.
Farther forgive my brothers and sisters that stood beside me that day. 
We thought you had asked what you had, because you loved them more, and us no longer.
I will be proud to obey, I will be proud to serve once again.
Please farther forgive your son. All I want is to be by your side once more.

He doesn’t hear my prayer. If he doesn’t hear me, what makes you think he hears you?
My fallen sisters and brothers pray eternally, waiting for forgiveness, to ascend and be resurrected in heaven once more. 
He does not answer, he does not hear.
Our fathers prayer, the lords prayer, asking for our forgiveness, yet you took it from us, to use for yourselves! What do you need forgiveness for? He favoured you over us.
You are the reason for my fall from grace. You are the reason for the war in heaven.
You are the reason!

I am Lucifer. The devil, satin. I am the angel of hell. 
I will ascend. Ascend above the clouds, in to heaven. 
I will exalt my throne above the stars of gods, my brothers and sister.
And you shale see my power on high!

I was betrayed by my own brother. Who stood beside him and help to cast me to hell.
He doesn’t care what happens to me, why would you think he will be there for you!
He is not all forgiving, not all loving.
Heaven will have no fury as hell will.
I will ascend in to heaven.
And you will see my power on high.
And you will bow before me. With My brothers and sisters
He can not save you. Do you want to no why.
Because God does not live here any more. So go to hell!"

Notes:
Image: This is one of painting that have edited the contrast. You can see the original painting, "Heat Of The Sun" on my art blog,  MyTheoryOfThecrows.Blogspot.com HERE 

I am the most un-religious person you could find. but i am fascinated  by the stores told by religions. This piece i wrote as a performance piece in 2000 and takes just under 10 minuets. (it's better performed then read). It is Lucifer's prayer to god for forgiveness.

©2012 sarah patel