Bücher von Writ

Rubik Poetry; these poems can be read several ways and in several directions to find fresh and alternative meanings. Poems are written out in simple English for the sake of the reader, followed by the true versions of the poems in their various forms.

BEYOND GOLD there is only grey is the story of a fraud on a massive scale, involving credit cards, property and banking. As the recent Banking crisis shows, the World is vulnerable to these forces that surround us, using the instant responses of the internet to destabilise the whole system, and through it, us. The governments of the World explained it all away as just market forces, but then, they would say that, wouldn't they? In reality, as shocking as it was, one man orchestrated our downfall. Despite the authorities' best efforts to stem the tide, the threat grows until it reaches the very heart of Governments all over the World. We see into the mind of the man whose apocalyptic plans threaten our way of life, as he negotiates his way through the pursuing pack of investigators, led by one man whose mission is to seek and destroy all that he stands for. We get behind the thoughts and motives of the two principal protagonists as they struggle for the financial future of the World. For those of us who want to know, this whole story is a blueprint of how real fraud works behind the scenes in all its fascinating but shocking detail. The Main Characters:The Chief: The man who investigates the frauds, calm, authoritative, contemplative,Decent, thorough.Susan: His assistant, very attractive and clever.McKay: Another assistant, Scottish, tough, uncompromising.The Commander: (his nickname), the author of the frauds, brilliant but flawed and unhappy.The Lieutenant: (his nickname), the Commander's friend and co-conspirator; Tough,honourable, loyal, ex-SAS and convicted murderer of his wife's killer.

A DAY OF RAIN: The death of a young girl signals the beginning of a poetic autobiographical journey that is a descent into the darkest heart of life itself; though the eyes of the travellers, a man and woman, we see into that darkness surrounding us all, and from the questions asked of us, we somehow find salvation in the light that is the true meaning of why we are here.

She was getting ready for bed, sitting at her dressing table in the half light. Softly, she hummed a tune to herself as she brushed her long hair, her slender fingers carefully gathering the strands of golden tresses containing just a hint of subtle red. Distractedly, she fiddled with her earring, trying to loosen it so she could place it on the table surface. She glanced up at the mirror. It was then she saw the face. Impossibly high above her shoulder, looking down on her at an odd angle, a face that was almost not human, unformed, transparent, malevolent. The expression on the face was cold, analytical, studying her like a specimen in a glass case, the hard cold eyes bored into her own. Not unnaturally, she screamed and fainted and fell to the floor. Cover Photo: Ghosts in the Hall By Rachel Titiriga