McAllister's Mates Four
An ongoing series of reviews of some of the wonderful articles, poems, and stories I’ve discovered on Substack and more importantly the beautiful souls behind the works.
Please take a few moments to read the works of these authors and if you find their work as life-affirming and life changing as I do, then please let them know. We need to support and cherish these voices.
You can meet some of my other friends in the previous installments: 3 2 1
Just a quick note before we meet these amazing writers - I’m taking a step outside my comfort zone and adding ‘buy me a coffee’ to my posts… (I’ve been feeling a bit shy, and intimated about this.)
In our modern age we are aware of the significance of obelisks in ancient mystery traditions, and have a certain fascination for them. Unfortunately, we view them through a romantic lens of modern fantasy stories, archaeology documentaries, and even conspiracy theories BUT we rarely FEEL the power they once had over humanity.
Here Summer captures the wonder, fear, and reverence that our ancestors had for these sacred structures. The Obelisk was more than an attractive monument, it was a transmitter between our world and the other. They watched you, they judged you, they carried your hopes and dreams to the other place, and the consequences of the God's judgements down to you.
In summer’s poem we can hear the voice of dreams (and nightmares) booming from the needle point of the mighty Obelisk just outside our humble village. Making a pathology of the universe - a powerful statement with its implications of dis-ease and a cold scientific hand observing and manipulating the world.
Another excellent use of double meaning is the abysmal depths of the sea (both physically deep and terrible). The poetry much like the mighty obelisk itself spans both the physical world and the conceptual ether, reaching its point to pierce the bright sun of rationality, and casting its long shadow across the meadows of our hearts… Best offer this poem a like and comment or the obelisk will point at YOU!
This story takes the form of a philosophical/journalistic analysis of a fictional space voyage. It's an intriguing set up for an odd and fascinating take on humanity's interstellar ambitions. The optimistic and rousing spirit of science fiction like Star Trek is pierced by the one question no one dares ask. What if there is nothing but silence? And perhaps even more pertinently are we looking in the wrong place? The perspective is interesting, combining the omnipotent vision of third person perspective, with the judgement and opinions of first person storytelling. Perhaps it’s quite telling that this piece of fictionalised journalism has so much more to say about our direction as species than our current “news” sources. Much like our news-cycles, our fictional landscapes chase the drama of the rise and fall of material ambitions like conquest, technologies, and finding new territories without stopping to ask what is truly being sought and why.
The verses of the beautiful and inspiring poem “Invictus” are skillfully interwoven throughout the text. Given the thrust of the narrative some may interpret this as an attempt at cynical or dismissive irony. However I think such a reading misses both the point of this story and Txt's astute reading of Invictus. The true adventure, and the true task is the journey within. Our swaggering manipulations of the external world can be something of a sham to hide our individual Insecurities, and broken communication across societies. Sly inferences to the ship's gaudy decoration and excessive shineness, but lack of a coherent map or plan further underpin the questions of using external spectacle to hide from our internal shortcomings.
This is an extraordinary piece of writing that uses the dressing of science fiction to force the ever more urgent question of “Does your soul really need more stuff?” As we find ever more distractions with career ambitions, material gain, entertainment, and an ever more intrusive virtual world, something HAS to give. Txt’s story uses the metaphor of running down an intergalactic wormhole to ask you if you’re exploring or just trying to escape yourself.
There are innumerable books, articles, and resources on time management, a thousand youtube videos on brainstorming techniques, and a plethora of creative writing outlining techniques.
Tinderbox Poetry Journal asks the question behind the question - where did your fire go, and how do you relight it? Those resources I mentioned are invaluable without a doubt, but the message succinctly delivered, and gently explored in this article is that the will must come before the way.
Writer's block, time management issues, and the very real difficulty of creating income from work hit all poets. I include myself in this, but are these things REALLY enough to conquer or impede the might of the imagination? I don't think so… This is a call to take action. A call to take agency! There's a beautiful metaphor here about our stress creating an armor around the power of the now, and the waters of our emotional centers.
But waters gather to become floods rusting and breaking down armor. Perhaps that is the secret - writer support movements like Tinderbox Poetry help us pool our strength to wash away each other's blocking walls. Support them and support each other.
The ambition shown in this piece, and across the entire portfolio is staggering. Mystical poetry, creative typography, and arresting artwork create a multi-layered experience.
This unification of various aesthetic disciplines is entirely appropriate and complementary to the poetry’s meandering nature. Strands of journeys from childhood to maturity,romance,and the mathematical mantras of modern life -digital clocks, train timetables, and fast food orders are woven into a rich tapestry. The text carries the imagery of the summer and winter solstices through these vignettes as illustrations of thresholds being crossed as we glance back knowing everything is about to change.The callbacks to the modern routines of traffic and ball point pens ground the experience in the state of hyper reality that such moments bring. The traffic horns blaring louder and the breeze tickles more fiercely as our senses boil over to capture the moment where we hear longed for or dreaded words.
The final compliment to the excellent verses and cunning typography is the artwork weaving through the peace. Mystical and alchemical symbols are returned to their true importance as records of/keys to heightened sensory and emotional experience, rather than empty fantasy tropes.These symbols are cleverly bathed in neon hues and combined with modern iconography to feed us the eternal romance of these key experiences in the context of our cosmopolitan landscape. Offset screen-printing lends these images a pleasant distressed look, but like so much of the execution here this goes far beyond pleasant aesthetics. Layered symbols fill each other's gaps to create unified pictographs that capture the blurred reality between ancient emblems and contemporary sights. The distressed effects also remind us of the ever-present sadness of the missing details when we relive those experiences, perhaps we can’t quite recall their exact words or the way the sun caught their hair. These works are true gems and there are many other multi-layered and multi-sensory revelations to be found in this publication.
I hope you enjoy these beautiful works as much as I enjoyed reading them and writing about them.
You can meet some of my other friends in the previous installments: 3 2 1
Substack has proven to be a treasure trove and I already have a few more gifted writers lined up for my next review newsletter.
Woah...thank you for checking out the first chapter and writing such a thoughtful review, genuinely appreciate it.
Summer's poem was wonderful so glad to see her here!