Shadows & Angels

By Paul James

What happens when mysterious stories of the world’s light as well as strange, secretive and sometimes macabre tales of its darkness collide in spectacular fashion? Shadows & Angels is just such a haunting, distinctive and contrasting poetry collection. It takes the reader on an exhilarating roller coaster journey of the good, bad and ugly side of life’s experiences; sometimes hurtling back centuries in time, before rebounding into the present, with a veritable cornucopia of subject matter. Poetic and varied images of dark fantasy and horror are merged with love, romance, and dazzling optimism; beguiling lyrical rhyme, hammering on the doors of broken rules, blends inexorably with a myriad of profound emotions; as terrifying monsters, both real and metaphorical, battle with wise, courageous angels for supremacy in the moving narrative. Charming, enigmatic and complex characters in abundance are introduced as this mesmerising book leads its readers across the winding annals of time, continents and differing worlds. From supernatural to beautiful and fantastical to dangerous, with hypnotic and seductive chronicles, shocking plot twists and radiant intensity: each poem imbibes emotive reflection told in an elegant and powerful language that engages the reader in intelligent and stylish prose, whilst making them imagine they are clandestine observers in each dramatic scene. Whether opening the gates of Hell or peppering murky dreams with unrequited love, doomed romance or echoing periods of high-impact drama and wondrous adventure, Shadows & Angels conveys a rare, intelligent and perceptive insight into a world of intrigue and jeopardy, but always encompassed in warrior resilience and precious hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Sep 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781788480116

Paul James

Paul James is Director of the Globalism Institute and Professor of Globalism and Cultural Diversity at the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology. He has written and edited several books including Global Matrix (Pluto, 2005).

Book preview

About the Author

Paul James hails from Yorkshire and is now settled in London. He has led an eclectic mix of an existence, living and working on four continents. A former military man; aircraft engineer; semi-pro footballer; national security consultant; international businessman; poet and published author, Paul is an incurable primeval Scorpio romantic, with an artistic penchant for the ocean-deep intensity and surreal dark side in his writing, where he pushes the boundaries of poetic prose. His passionate nature and old-fashioned soul are as prevalent in his life as they are in his studious work, showcased in this unique poetry collection.

Paul James

SHADOWS & ANGELS

Copyright © Paul James (2021)

The right of Paul James to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398433922 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781788480093 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781788480116 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2021)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

The author can be reached directly at the following address:

[e-mail]

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the memory of Peggy, my beautiful, loving, amazing Mum, who passed away in February 2020. Her kindness, strength, warmth, humour and selfless Spartan courage never ceased to astound and inspire me. Until we meet again little Mama...

I would also like to dedicate this work to the memory of Mum’s loving husband Jim and my dear late father, who passed away on Good Friday, 2018.

Death takes the body. God takes the soul.

My mind holds the memories, my heart keeps the love.

My faith lets me know, I will see them again.

Acknowledgements

Thank you again to my lovely late mother Peggy, for having the patience to listen to, read and critique each of the poems in my collection, in tandem with her indefatigable belief in me during the toughest of times we both shared. I love you Mama.

I would also like to acknowledge and thank the most remarkable, wonderful and intelligent woman I have ever known, Sikiu Martinez, a woman who moved my very soul; whom I will always remember as mi hermosa Latina, the amazing woman who encouraged me to become a writer, and who was such a powerful and impassioned inspiration…as she will no doubt see when she reads my work. Amor siempre para siempre Sikiu.

Tears of the Vampyre

The tall shadowy figure sculpture-still, lurked convent-silent tucked inside the swaying treeline.

An eagle-eyed focused burning stare and whirlwind-swift judgements seeped from the presence like an invisible aura seen only by the supernatural.

The demon inside unfurled like an inky flag in sunken coal-black eyes.

Nightfall swooped rapidly.

Auburn-tinged cumulus clouds trundled and curled headlong, truncated in the darkening pearly skies.

Ashen-grey blankets of wispy air began to congregate above the forest’s canopy, like billowing sails.

There was a perception of malevolence in the atmosphere, encapsulated by the ghostly tranquillity that heralded an incoming thunderstorm.

An eerie breeze suddenly picked up, transcending into a wailing gust, blowing squawking avian remnants of the day to their lofty beds.

The cacophony settled swiftly to ominous silence as the sinister shape, head down and yet staring menacingly upwards, challenged their trilling chatter.

Now undisturbed, the anthropoid continued ice-cold meditation, mumbling unintelligibly, interspersing rambling incantations with innate grunts.

Silvery moonbeam sabres cut in and out of the rustling treetops, intermittently flash-lighting sharp Slavic cheekbones, thin optimistic snarling red lips, gaunt diaphanous pallor; highlighting prominent cerulean veins, rippling like an icy river’s fast-flowing tributary through a snow-covered tundra.

The wind squalled and reeled as the air charged with teasing moisture and crackling electricity; aggravating, inciting rolling claps of burgeoning thunder.

The figure seemed to levitate before stepping robotically from the thick copse.

In the gathering swirling mist, small slate-grey dust-devils whirled and fought earnestly at knelling ebony-black leather boots; as the pleats in his lengthy dark coat fluttered then flapped against his lean taut configuration, in the wake of his slow, elegant-striding, purposeful gait.

Then the rain fell.

Reaching the sodden plateau of the grassy knoll overlooking the village of Speranţă – his village – the inscrutable hominid stopped, stock-still, taking in the panorama.

Lifting the high collar of his flamboyant attire against the wind’s howling; he moved to the edge of the lunette, spreading his large angular frame, batwing cloak’s folds gusting in the biting gale.

Feeling the stark inclemency of the weather, he inhaled its untainted power.

The colossal downpour drenched his long sable-black hair, plastering it to his oversized skull, as he felt the synapses of his razor-honed acute senses begin to susurrate and heighten, as they always did.

He knew the time had come to proclaim his long-awaited entrance, in the suspected spectacular manner only he could deliver.

His body began shuddering with anxious yet gratifying anticipation.

Muttering incessantly between dysphonic word and chant, an incomprehensible myriad jumble of ancient languages that rattled through the ages – from Greek to Armenian; Mesopotamian to Hebrew; Aramaic to Mayan; Latin to Transylvanian; tumbled from his quivering mouth.

The thunder growled, snatching and clawing at the firmaments.

And so, it began.

Nodding his head in a trance-like stupor, he suddenly threw back his muscular neck, flexed at right-angles to the ground, arms outstretched in crucifixion pose.

His body began to tremor.

His eyes, now closed and directed heavenwards, pressed tighter against the plundering night as he welcomed the now raging storm.

The invading thunder rumbled its support, as if it were prophesying a satanic ritual.

The torrential bullet-drops rain lashed down, relentlessly scattering nocturnals as they darted sporadically for disparate cover.

Simultaneously, the water’s heavy descent flattened the buckling and capitulating flora and foliage in catastrophic abundance.

The darkness of the waterlogging downfall amongst the rural domain gave the impression of blood in the moonlight – black as a murderer’s soul.

As the rain stippled his face, motion returned to the creature’s structure, illustrated by his lips parting to taste the deluge, senses now in overload; revealing stalactite-sharp, porcelain-gleam, long canine fangs.

As the madding thunder boomed, huge forks of lightning – like a gigantic pterodactyl’s spreading wings – lit up both the brooding sky, and the necromancer’s unique features.

Without warning, the enigma opened his cruel slash mouth wider as if to scream.

No sound emitted at first.

Seconds passed as a look of paralysis seemed to traverse his deranged visage, which appeared to spread throughout his physique.

A humming paranormal vibration from his sallow, gargling throat was the first indication of what was to follow.

Then slowly the man – if indeed he was a man – began to release a long low continuously rising, female-sounding, warbling contralto; that fell into a terrifying tremoring screech, which then metamorphosed through operatic baritone to tenor – seeming to emanate from the very depths of the netherworld.

Even the incandescent northerly wind seemed to dilute its mournful howl in respect and fear of the unearthly wail.

The sound reverberated and gradually transformed into a loud guttural mournful roar.

The