Tag: Poetry

Orangey Blanky

Art Alastair Blaster words Steven Smith  

“We are all born as blank canvases; hate, racism, and a lack of understanding are learned.”
How you choose to see the world and create the tapestry of your life is up to you.
Blanky is here to “Make Earth Safe Again.”

Blanky told Patrick not to worry. He assured him that everything would be fine now, and encouraged him to keep shining brightly, just as he always had. Patrick’s new friends, though they noticed he was a little different, were happy to welcome him into their games. It had only taken a little time to explain how truly amazing Patrick was, and once they understood, they accepted him with open arms.
“But you’re going,” said Patrick, his voice trembling as he clutched Blanky tightly. “What will I do without you?”
Blanky’s gentle voice carried calm reassurance. “No, Patrick. I won’t really be gone. I am energy, and energy can never disappear—it just changes form. I’ll always be here, watching over you. If you ever really need me, just shout, and I’ll come. But please, Patrick, promise me something. Be your own unique energy. Be proud of who you are. Only call for me if it’s a true emergency. The rest of the time, I want you to stand tall and make yourself proud.”
With those words, Blanky shimmered, the soft glow around him brightening before he vanished into the air like starlight carried away by the wind.
Far away, 7,000 miles from Waterloo in London, lay the warm and glittering shores of the Dominican Republic. Though oceans stretched between them, Blanky could still hear faint cries for help echoing across the world. Something was wrong—deeply wrong. He could feel it in the atmosphere. The balance was shifting, and a dark presence stirred. Blanky recognised it instantly: the Olethros. They were near, and they were meddling again, leaving the planet weak and gasping for breath.
His worst fears were soon confirmed. On a sandy beach, lying helplessly on its side, was a dolphin. Its sleek silver body was scratched and bruised, its breath ragged as it struggled to survive.
Being made of pure energy, Blanky could communicate with all living creatures. He knelt by the suffering animal, his voice soft and kind.
“Help me… help me to the water,” the dolphin squeaked weakly.
First, Blanky placed his glowing hands upon the dolphin’s wounds. A gentle light poured out of him, soothing the creature’s pain and knitting torn skin. Slowly, the dolphin’s panic subsided. Then Blanky transformed—his body reshaping into that of a tall, powerful man. With strength that came not from muscle but from energy itself, he lifted the dolphin carefully and carried it back into the turquoise sea.
The moment they touched the water, the dolphin raised its head and spoke clearly. “I am Stinggal,” it said, its voice now stronger, though tinged with sorrow.

As the waves lapped around them, Blanky allowed his energy to flow once more, transforming himself into a dolphin so he could swim alongside Stinggal. Their fins cut through the water with ease as they dived into the deeper blue, exploring the world beneath the surface.
But there was little joy to be found there. The sea was clouded, its once-crystal depths marred by floating waste. Fish darted nervously, entangled in nets that stretched endlessly across the ocean floor. The corals, once glowing with colour, were bleached and broken.
“The sea is being poisoned,” Stinggal said, his tone heavy with grief. “It is the work of the one they call the Orange Man. He cares only for money and fame. He tears down forests and scars the earth. He pours filth into the oceans and poisons the air. He does not care for life, only for power and wealth. If this continues, my kind—and many others—will soon vanish forever.”
Blanky swam alongside him, listening intently as Stinggal continued.
“They no longer respect the natural order. Fishing is allowed everywhere, without limit. Great nets are dragged across the seas, destroying entire habitats. The young are caught with the old. The strong are trapped with the weak. Nothing is spared. If something is not done, the oceans will become empty deserts, and the balance of the whole world will collapse.”
Blanky’s heart, though made of energy, ached with sorrow. He had seen the Olethros bring destruction before, but this was different. This was not just one species in danger—this was the very foundation of the planet being eroded. He looked at Stinggal, whose bright eyes flickered with both hope and fear.
“Then we must fight,” Blanky said firmly. “Not with anger, but with courage and truth. The Orange One may have power, but the Earth has a voice of its own. We will remind the world to listen.”
Stinggal gave a small, hopeful leap from the water, droplets sparkling around him like diamonds. “Then perhaps there is still a chance,” he said softly. “The Orange One lives in the country of stars and stripes. He silences anyone who is different, anyone who dares to protect the planet.”
“Then let’s swim,” said Blanky.
Side by side, the two dolphins swam into the vast horizon, ready to face whatever darkness lay ahead. After many days, they reached the shores of Florida, where it was time to part. Stinggal nuzzled Blanky gently. “Do not worry. I’ll be back when you need me.”
The Orange One—whom the world called Orangey—was guarded in a huge white house. For most, it would be impossible to reach him.
He was in human form, but his skin was unnaturally orange and crispy-looking. Sitting behind a great oak desk, he shuffled papers, smirking at his own power. The heavy doors swung open, and a pale, sharp-faced woman entered.
“I have some prizes for you, for being so amazing,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you. Put them on the desk,” Orangey replied, barely looking up.
“You’ll be impressed,” the woman continued. “We’ve just brought plastic back everywhere—no restrictions. We’ve reopened drilling for oil. And best of all, we’ve banned the words global warming from every official report.”
“Fake news!” Orangey barked, slamming his hand on the desk.
The blonde woman jumped up and down with excitement. “Well done! Did you also ban those who don’t speak English fluently from entering the country?”
“All done,” Orangey said proudly. “Soon, we will drain this world of every resource. When it is broken and empty, we’ll move on—just like we did with Alacritas.”
The woman clapped her pale hands, though her skin did not yet have the telltale orange hue of the Olethros. But Blanky knew what they were. The Olethros always revealed themselves in the end, their bodies glowing with a sickly orange light as they fed on destruction.
This time, he could not allow it. Earth would not be their next victim.
Blanky hovered at the window of the great white house, his body shimmering with invisible energy. He could see Orangey and his pale companion celebrating their victories, blind to the damage they had sown across the planet.
It was time.
The battle to save Earth was about to begin.