Writes from the heart

To be fair?

2011-07-01T03:54:00.001-07:00

Fairness

What is fairness?

The division of time?

Money? Chocolates?

The expenditure of life? Of the discipline of death?

The valleys of experience matched by the constraints of inoppourtunity slowly

creeping, marking the passages of age

by the artificial pallor of beauty.

How is it measured?

By the cup or gram? By handfuls of mindfuls

By counting out the seconds

Or round golden materialism?

Is it an object to be held

Or a moment to be remembered

and judged before comparing

to the other pieces of flaxen fair.

Can it be contained

or is it a spirit

conjured by

conjecture in

substance.

Subjective.

Fair isn't fair - it just is.

Letters to a phoneline.

2011-01-22T08:47:00.000-08:00

One Way Letters

Speech.
2 way
communication that
consists of
A speaker(myself for once)
And the listener (i guess that must be
you, as I hear no words from your
end of the line.)
I talk and talk
and scream and sigh
and call and cry
and search to seek
To find the answer
As to why (oh why)
my, my, my, my....
letters, my phone calls,
my ever growing poetry....

Go unanswered.

Late ahem Week 2 =P

2011-01-18T09:32:00.001-08:00

I haven't written poetry that rhymes in so long....so I don't really know where this cam from xD

Walls have ears
but they not need speak
To share the words
that creep, that creep,
and weave through staircases
slither down halls
"Come listen! Come listen!
Away!! They call!!"

They think I lie
They think can't hear
How can they know me
as I disappear
From the sight and sound
that they've 'banished' me from
It tough, I know
but it's what she's become.

xx

New Year - Week 1 =)

2011-01-02T14:06:00.000-08:00

New Year's Resolution - A poem a week =) At least!!

She'd cast her wave to the sea
It was dark, but the end of the chapter
was caught by the moon
And melted through into the
emerald phosphorescence of the tide....

But like the tide
deep black pages of a written past
floated
back to the forefront of reversed sight.

Gravity turned the moon
and withdrew its light.

She didn't want to read again
She knew the ending,
of how salt of the wound
hurts
as her music box heart is healed by the ocean.

The tide came closer until
it adorned the shore with the paper-
thin leaves of the written heart.
Jealous for the heat of the sand over
sand with its shell so calm.
So protected.
So beautiful.
(It was bound to want what it cannot have -
you loose what you are unable to hold onto)

A reminder? A regret? Does the writer wish for a different ending?
(Only one to blame for that - She's sure)

She runs, though sad,
the final chapter was meant to be.
It was right.
Against her wishes, curiosity turns to the moon....

Who questions....
What am I to think?

Once again, it is effaced from her mind.

Until fate has the tide crawl in again.

xxxx

Past the windowframe.

2010-11-23T12:59:00.000-08:00

As the spider casts it's charm
across the window
of streams, adorned with dew drops
delicately, deliciously positioned
across a sheet of crystalline glass
transforming into that of iced clouds
that snap. Bitter,
in all four corners.

She looks on.

The next, folded, fading faces.
An army of painted curves
tip, unbalanced and fall.
Their cries echo in the colour
of terror,
muds of autumn traced the ground.
But they cling on.

And she looks on.

A solitary stand.
Mirror of me, it reaches
in all direction, yet
the same direction.
I know,
christened with the fairy's dust
a few hopeful thoughts
and I will fly.
Fly on.

She looks on.

xx

And the rose asked why.

2010-11-14T04:59:00.000-08:00

And the scarlet rose asked
Why did it hurt?
When my strings were pulled
to choke?
My stem not pulled,
but twisted?
and why (I cry)
do I heal - for now -
to make a choice,
a battle with the brain
(if I only had a brain)
I didn't call
(we're not living in a fairy tale after all)
I can't speak
(just listen....listen to the sound of the wind)
nor feel - not really -
A toy a most.

Bye bye Petals.

Yes....
No....
Yes....

No.

xx

All for me =)

2010-05-11T10:41:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been so long, coursework and all =(

Shine of a coin
Passes from the ‘gentleman’ to the other
For her.

Red flush
As dainty as the petals he promises
For her.

The smile
And a whispered word to bring bubbled delight
For her.

That look
And the knowledge of truth
Is all for her.

xx

Hey, why not :)

2010-03-26T12:37:00.000-07:00

Heyheyhey :) Here is one I wrote –rather last minute – for a mass in school. I thought it was rather neutral, not necessarily religious, soooo why not post :)

The truth will set you free,
And a confession to seek forgiveness
For everything –
For every time we have ever closed our eyes – will set us free,
So we can grow,
And prepare to remember the sacrifice,
Which made the simple divine,
And the possibility of our forgiveness
Possible.

We will remember you.

x

Should I dare to dance?

2010-02-26T11:58:00.000-08:00

Apologises, my fault. I've just had a lot on my plate recently and haven't been able to blog. Not that excuses matter. Anyway - here is a recent poem. I had a bit of a Sylvia Plath moment when I was reading it aloud, and thought it sounded quite good =D I like it sooo..anyway. Here it is, I'll begin to dance across these eggshells...

Dare to dance across the
corners, the points and curves
of the eggs
Lined in perfect rows.
Each polished to the perfection of a dream
of my dream.
I’ll stay asleep, not to wake the giant,
and close the lid to protect myself from the harm
Of disorder.
Moving forward,
with the grace which is as clearly nonexistent
as the future.
Most unfortunate indeed.
I crawl and crawl,
to balance and perfect
No danger, (just the fear of what in truth is not really there)
So I spread my weight, to be sure, down I fall,
until the shell breaks
piece, by piece,
Until all that is left, is the sting and remains
Of those perfected lines.
In each fragment, a memory of the picture before
which I find
I am embedded in every piece
Which shattered across the silver of that cloud
Hung, in the midst of everything
On the balance of what was meant to be.

x

I think I was hoping a little more than even I realised...

2010-01-24T09:56:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd better post, considering that I have at all so far this year. I guess I was just waiting for the right poem to come on by...well there's enough...fun going on to supply inspiration so here it is...

My week was made
you tied the red strings wrapping my world
back with normality.

It's holding, just about,
but it's still so delicate
after the 'mistake' you made.

Now the strings are straining
but not because you wrapped it too tight.
The threads which make you are against you.
and I don't think you know what's going on.

This thread is different, the black amongst the red.
It's making its way out, into ribbon with the best intentions
but another motive? as much denied?

Or is that just what I hope?
The only lie I ever hope to be true.
Something just doesn't feel right.

I hope it's all wrong. I hope I can
s-n-i-p away at this ribbon until it's only the thread thats left
so it can all go back to normal
and I wont flood this gift away.

A single red string is enough, it's all I need

I think I was hoping a little more than even I knew.

Miss you still, Love you more xx

2009-12-20T13:16:00.000-08:00

Sparkled tears dry on those closed lashes
Blink. blink.
Be strong.
Two years is too long.
Be the rock.
Remember, there are others who need her more.
You are needed right now.
The rock? Or the stone in the shoe?
And as much as you wish she were here
Someone else needs you to be here in her place.
Or at least try to be.

Some shoes are just too big to fill,
But sometimes all you can do
is try and make the owners proud.

x

Searching through my old poetry, and what do I find?

2009-12-09T11:05:00.000-08:00

I found this one when I was looking through some of my older stuff =) I quite like it so I thought I'd post it, reminds me a bit of a character in a book I'm reading at the moment =D

Its not the time passing
That I catch with my eye as i’m half focused
Half here
Half taken
I do not hear anything though
I know when something is...
Not paranoid, just aware.
I worry in a sense if seen, but confident enough
to know he wouldn’t let anything happen.
I think.
But it’s losing control,

No

It's the adrenaline I fear the most

If I only had a heart...

2009-12-04T12:22:00.000-08:00

Where and when and how and why
Trapped in the same old circle
of reliving and remembering
and feeling how I did.

And the dusts of time keep on falling
and everything around me is changing
but I still can't see far enough in the past
to understand why im stuck in the sand

I can't help but stay here
and though I know it's not good for my health
I don't want to change from what I was
what I am, though you already are too far gone

And the dusts of time keep on falling
and everything around me is changing
but I still can't see far enough in the past
to understand why im stuck in the sand

Fall, again and pick yourself up,
again, before the fall you forsee,
but if it reminds you that you still feel,
is it really that bad? If you still have a heart.

And the dusts of time keep on falling
and everything around me is changing
but I still can't see far enough in the past
to understand why im stuck in the sand

Maybe I just need to sink into the sand to make it back up again

Et en Arcadia ego....

2009-11-24T09:35:00.001-08:00

Heaven kids us in our infancy
Pulls at those heartstrings
Breaks the boundaries
Sparks those tears
Those cries for help

I am here

Paper Roses

2009-11-21T08:21:00.001-08:00

I fold with care
and cut to the line
(don't cross it, don't break it)
Should I ask? Or use my common sense?
Play it safe
(Cause who knows what could happen)
Colours run
into nothing, pretty but tainted
and as it grows,
takes shape and knows where
and when
it wants to be
who's to stop it?
(and you forget the other half,
you forget there is a center to
every petal)
and those yellow paper roses
just don't want to stick anymore.
So why did the red?
Which is to work?
(You should have seen it coming

I'm Sorry

).

Lets get some real poetry up..haha

2009-11-04T08:07:00.000-08:00

OK, I'm fed up of drama drama drama...so I thought I'd post up some completely irrelevant poetry today, it's up to him now, nothing more I can do, no amount of poetry can change that...

Also I haven't really written much recently, I've been attempting song writing...(key word attempt) so the poems have come a bit of a slow down, but they'll be back soon haha =]

Anyways, seen as it Remembrance Sunday this week here's 'Where Poppies Grow'

Bombs have blown
To pieces and scattered
Across the ground
As if nothing mattered
Where poppies grow.

Hearts have been broken
And tears have been shed
Memories of war forgotten
From the heroes now dead
Where poppies grow.

Lives have been taken
For a cause thought to be right
Now as each name is recalled
We remember their darkened fight
Where poppies grow.

Flags are raised
To show our respect
For the soldiers who have fallen
Simply so they could protect
Where poppies grow.

Bright poppies now bloom
Pride clear and well known
Red petals for red soldiers
Your poppies have grown.

x

I can't believe I just compared you to chocolate cake........

2009-10-30T03:20:00.001-07:00

It's been a while

I finally have the chance to beat,
to move, to fly.
I see and I have the power
to smile, to form butterflies.
It's been so long
since I last stretched.
Not that I'm counting but
the dark, loveless nights seemed countless
and now I can feel again
It feels strange
and unused muscle
shrunken
but the potential for so much
love
brings happiness which steals the lows
and makes them soar again
over each cloud, taking in
every detail of every second
so every sight, every touch
is remembered and locked
up into a box with reeling rainbows of ribbon.
So beautiful.
So...
So...
So.

Jigsaw

2009-10-10T08:23:00.000-07:00

I slot in where-ever is left once everyone has found their place.

No disturbances.

No hassle.

No problem.

Do I make things complete or just complex?- Who knows?

But am I the piece that has gone missing?

Maybe. I'd like to thinks so.

I'm the piece that works around everyone's lives.

To try and make things flow better...

For everyone else but me.

They matter more so what is a moment of pain,

Or frustration

When everyone else is happy?

But what if I'm growing tired of it all?

What if I'd like-for a change-

For things to work without me drawing the short straw.

But i feel bad, I'm an inconvenience,

Sorry.

So sorry.

Story of my freaking life...

Is it bad?

2009-10-04T10:14:00.000-07:00

I know I'm probably gonna kick myself for putting this up later but I feel like I kind need to. It's not great poetry but I feel like crap right now and it might just help me at least for a little bit.

I wrote this the other week, and it is followed by a few panicked poems. Anyway here it is.

Is it bad?

Is it bad that I can work out the exact day we met?
Is it bad that I know where to find your favourite biscuits?
Is it bad that I know in which drawer you keep your socks?
Is it bad that I know you’ve eaten pizza...with mint sauce?
Is it bad that I already have an idea for your Christmas present?
Is it bad that I hope your here with me to celebrate my 18th?
Is it bad that when I see you perform, I have eyes for no-one else?
Is it bad that I hope you think of me, even just a little bit every now and again?
Is it bad that my heart skips when I hear my phone, in the hope that it’s a text from you?
Is it bad that I think of you often, more often than I probably should?
Is it bad that I honestly can’t imagine what I’d do without you, now that you’ve become part of my life?
Is it bad that I worry about being a good-enough-girlfriend, only because I know you deserve it?
Is it bad that I love you? Cause I really can’t help this anymore.

x

Skeptic? .....Or am I?

2009-09-28T03:24:00.000-07:00

Forever and Always

Purer than innocence's first
Crescent moon appears and remains
- to my delight -
Cause I return the favour with a sparkle,
though less in brilliance,
a star not so beautiful
(but made up with hope)
knows this is as close to perfection as I'd
want to see.
A clear night framing the moon
and a sigh so infectious
ever star takes it's turn.
My favourite forever and always.

Absent - poetry

2009-09-18T13:35:00.000-07:00

Ok, shoot me know. I haven't really blogged because of...ok well no excuse really. But I've just been finding it hard to put pen to paper recently. Loads of ideas but most fall flat after the first couple of lines. But anyway, he's one I've literally just wrote. (Like 30 seconds ago). Think I might just leave up a bit of raw poetry and see how it goes down haha.

Anyways here is 'Absent - yet still here'

Absent - Yet still here
I'm not actually too sure what to feel
i just am
disconnected
out-of-it
just moving, no commitment
not quite sure
what to do with
myself
who to be
what to be
where to go
I just am.
Absent
Absent-minded
Absent-being
Absent-knowing
Or just
Absent.

Cause I don't have anger issues.... 0:-)

2009-07-23T06:30:00.000-07:00

Sooo, I'm a little annoyed right now and found these from when I've been really angry before. I'd already written the first 3, and have just written the fourth. So, here they are

How did it come to this? – Strike 1

Blink, Bite. Blood. Blink.
I know I just can't win.
I know you can see the emptyness in my eyes.
The venom in your tongue.
Who cares? You don’t,
Care about me,
Love any of me,
Smile at me.
Even if I am motionless I break the tension,
and spark the minefield of your distaste.

Nothing.

Resorting to this to hear my words aloud.
Without being deafened by hate.

How did it come to this?.

How did it come to this – Strike 2

What. A. Bitch.
You still don't care do you?
Even after you were told DIRECTLY
Now I know you don't care
You make up the lies
You are the lies
When it's your fault already
How could you?
Just because you are a
Selfish. Lying. Child.
I don't hate you.
But if you carry on like this.
It's heading that way.

How did it come to this?

How did it come to this – Strike 3

Stupid piece of crap.
You think you’re so hard
With your pathetic head spins
You think you’re so ‘clever’
With your ridiculous eyebrow raises
You think you’re all that
When you pick on other people
So I step in
And everything moves
Until it’s directed at me
You
Pathetic
‘Clever’
Hard
Ridiculous
Little piece of crap

How did it come to this?

How did it come to this - And youuuuuu're out!

Is it really that hard?
Just to listen, for once in your life?
I mean, seriously. Would it kill you to say.
‘Oh ok then’ and leave it alone
You know – without messing, tampering, changing
Like you expect me to do with respect
Whereas you will stand there
Staring into the distance
Like some freaky, zoned out doll.
Cause that will make alllll the difference, of course
Cause that’ll really make things different
Or change my mind
Or make me see that im wrong
Cause I am – of course – im always wrong
I’m not perfect, and I may have made mistakes
But at least give me the credit for being right
Once in a while.
You’re heading the same way
As the crap you’ve just moved

Switching bags wont make it any less rank.

How did it come to this?

So yeah, im gonna go and find an anger management class, or 'A decade under the influence' on my Ipod. I'll let you decide which is cheaper :D

SEND ME A SIGN!!! cough please!

2009-06-27T06:09:00.000-07:00

Random poem, thought I should post seen as it's been a while =]

Stupid heart shaped Ice cubes

Its a constant thought
A just in case
But when life hands you signs
The ones you dont want
So you ignore them
And the heart shaped ice cubes you’ve just broken
In two
Are forgotten.

I dare you

2009-06-19T10:51:00.000-07:00

Go on, I dare you

The skies threatened rain
I dared them
Stared at their thick grey eyes
Narrowed
The road stretched on
Alike the world above me
Endless
One after another after another
The skies grew tired of my torments
It wasn’t worth it.

x

From one cloud to...a human?

2009-06-11T12:50:00.000-07:00

Slight change of blog today :) Here is the response to the letter written in my 'sister blog' www.poemkid.blogspot.com Her post is entitled 'Clouds......' and was written after some rather random thought :D Her letter was to a cloud, whereas this letter is from a cloud. It would make more sense if you read hers first soooo go check out her blog!

The sky (day or night)
Around planet earth
05/04/2009

Dear Evelyn,

Thank you for your questions, I would love to answer them. It gives me something to do as it can sometimes get so boring up here.

We are so high in the sky because we need to see exactly where we are and where we are heading. If you don’t know where you are, how can you say where you have been? Sometimes we get confused and need to stop, like the traffic does in front of the flashy lights to take a moment and enjoy the time we have. But sometimes we don’t all want to stop and we tear cleanly apart, it does not hurt. We don’t feel pain. My other half is somewhere else; I will search for here until the earth stops. We wouldn’t need to go near the ground, so I wouldn’t know if we would crash into the hills. I would have thought it would be a soft landing though – wouldn’t you think?

I wonder what it would be like to come down and talk to you, which is why I am so happy to get a letter. I people watch a lot, I see a lot up here. I wonder why you do the things you do, they don’t always make sense but I guess we all need to make mistakes. I don’t see the future I only see what is in front of me. I see everything, the good and the bad. I see the wars and chaos, but I also see the help and the concern and the ways people go out of their way to make sure everything is ok and that you live in a better place. It makes me cry, so happy do I feel when I see such goodness and happiness and excitement. I am glad I am not human though, at least as a cloud I cannot make any mistakes.

I do not feel the cold, o if I do I don’t notice. The changes are so slow up here I barely notice anything. I don’t know what happened to my mummy cloud – or if I ever had one. I sort of just…appeared from no-where. But if I could have a mummy cloud like you have your parents, I would be rosy pink with love.

I talk a lot, we tell each other about what we have seen. The things you do, the things that might happen. We get angry sometimes, deception happens here as well and we crash and yell at each other. We cry when we get frustrated and we scream when we don’t know what to say anymore. When we stop arguing, everything looks ok again and we join together to make a bigger cloud. Does that explain why I am so big?

We all feel different. Its hard to explain, one day you will have to come up and find out for yourself, I will find a way for you. When you cry, you tend to go a bit red or pink and when you are ill or sick you go grey or white, when we cry we do the same. When we are black we are so full of emotion we don’t know what to do, when we are slightly upset we only hint at grey. It depends. We don’t die; we live on and on, until we no longer exist. I don’t know what happens then. I know as much about it as you do death.

I cannot see heaven, I can see light. Lots of pearly white light but no more. I only see earth on one side and darkness of space on the other so the edge of the universe is beyond me. I cannot say. Angels come to visit and watch with us though. They are beautiful, created from the goodness you peoples hearts these angels are. Their wings help them walk; they feel so gentle with voices that would melt your heart. It makes me cry to listen to them. They are graceful and serene but can get frustrated like us as well. They are the thunder to our lightning.

I cannot see the universe; I can only see the edges of your world. I hope that one day when I disappear I can see the outside of everything and know all of the answers to the questions I have left.

Yours faithfully,

Cloud.

All in a days work :)

2009-06-06T11:53:00.000-07:00

I used to work in a sweet shop and I got very bored the one week I was there. I'd spent a while spreading out what was left of the stock on the shelves so it looked relatively full and then had nothing to do but sit and wait. No-one was coming in and the few who did, didn't buy anything because we didn't have what they wanted. So I began to write poetry :) Here is the final version.

An empty sweetshop in an empty high street

Tap, tap, tap,
The high street is still empty
The paths as bare as these shelves
Which shuffle, and divide
To fake the supply of sweets.

In, out, sigh,
A dance, a step to pass
The time which drags on so slow.
Half past four – an eternity away
From my watch so stubborn, so still.

Knock, knock, knock,
Our dozing heads lift in surprise
Stretched bright smiles and eyes
Full of sparkle as we watch
The customer looks… then leaves.

On, off, on,
No power, no sale, no radio.
Lock up and leave? Or pay for light?
Or sit in the darkness and watch
The high street still as empty as these shelves.

Don't really have much to say....

2009-05-29T08:15:00.000-07:00

Sooo.....here's today's post :)

The famous unknown child

Tear stained eyes follow the ‘famous’ boy.
a name? None, but heartfelt sympathy,
sewn to Sadness, reflection, distress,
then poured out of hearts, in showers
to show the other side.

The boy will not ‘know’ as we know.
nor see, sing or fly.
Innocence, his only friend who hasn’t betrayed
and Innocence, which will claim him

This boy sees past all tears, all fears
he doesn’t know life.
This...child will leave us,
Knowing how kind his Innocence was to him
without realising
how cruel life can be in return.

x

I'm not really a decision making kind of person...

2009-05-28T13:20:00.000-07:00

Everyone makes decisions, however I'm not one of the most decisive of people :) This poem is about having to make an uninformed decision and how this 'character' goes about it. She knows that it will come back to her if she leaves it but still.... anyways, here it is!!!

Flip a coin
Roll a dice
Choose a hand.

Decision
though in itself, not entirely understood
but tried.
The sense made clear enough
nervous enough
for everything to stop
'An end'

Flip a coin
Roll a dice
Choose a hand

Go for it?
Or leave it for now
a choice to be made at a
later date? or asked
again
Does she...

Flip a coin
Roll a dice
Choose a hand

trust her instincts
or go with the flow?
(She doesn't care what they think)
but could she really...
once she thought about it

Flip a coin
Roll a dice
Choose a hand

Was it right?
Or was she scared?
It'll come around again,
soon? or later?
Then she'll be here again
and may have to...

Flip a coin
Roll a dice
Choose a hand...

x

T'was Prettyful :)

2009-05-25T08:53:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been a while, busy busy busy :) I wrote this one after seeing a full rainbow on the way home. T'was beautiful, and me being me started scribbling down the following :D

Rainbow
Two sides collide
the forward and the reverse,
the extremes and the chances.
You take in the
moment... seize the opportunity, begin
the battle, surrounded by
the sun and rain
to take something good
and the something bad
to create that something
Beautiful.

X

Am I what you would have wanted?

2009-05-19T08:38:00.000-07:00

Third post of the week - look at me go :) This one was inspired by some lyrics (the ones in italics below) it one of my most recent, but maybe not one of my best.

Am I what you would have wanted?

‘What would you think of me now?
So lucky, so strong, so proud’

Am I what you would have wanted?
Hardworking, successful and now, happy?
I’ve done my best, played to my strengths
And come out as close to ‘on top’ as I can

But what about away from that?
Have I shamed you, disappointed you?
Did you think I was ‘better than that’?
Or are you proud that I stop when it gets too much?

I am happy, he makes me happy.
I am lucky, strong and proud to say he’s with me
Is it what you would have wanted
Do you think...

Or am I shamed.
I lied to stay out of trouble, and will end up doing so again.
I don’t say what I’ve been up to
But I don’t do it just for me
But for him

Is that wrong?

What would you think of me now?
So lucky, so strong, so proud
Or so stupid, so wrong, so not what you knew.

x

Staring at the old me in the mirror..

2009-05-18T13:39:00.000-07:00

I wrote this after an...eventful day, I'd come home feeling amazing, special, new and then before I went to bed I went through the old routine until I looked and felt unspecial, plain and rather insignificant. It was the old me that came back and stared at me in the mirror that led to this poem...and a few notes I could just about read from my notebook by my pillow the next morning :)

Thick frame, strong wire, and i’m the geek again

Goodnight kiss, I’ll see you soon.
She wonders up the driveway,
Swimming, dazed,
Did she really just do that?
Surprising herself now, that’s new.
A wave goodbye, still sends a message a moment later
Like he did before, her turn now.
Nice time? Yes mum.
Silence, the glare washes over her.
Night.
She washes off the day though still smells of him
Takes care of each tooth, an acquired routine
With something to hold
Stares into the mirror at an unusual angle
Takes her sight away and seals it in a box
Picks up her old sight, her old self, her past look
Looks back to the mirror
Lies down to sleep
Thick frames, strong wire and I’m the geek again.

Not so cryptic poetry =]

2009-05-17T12:33:00.000-07:00

I wrote this one not so long ago, there are two characters in this though they have no names other than 'one' and 'another'. I think it's a bit cryptic, though that may be because there are hidden bits and pieces in it which you might not pick up on. Well, anyway here's my second post =]

Atomic configuration

At a point where two are closest
Forces are hard to break
The concentration, connection
Stands, or rather sits out
Potent against the ongoings
Of the ins and outs
Outs and ins
Of normality.
One who saw another
(who didn’t dream like this)
With lights and nights
Awake
Are held together
By thought and silence
(and no awkwardness)
But the knowledge of breaking away is there
However easy to ignore
The reluctance to go makes that bond stronger
Until another
Bond breaks
Leaves
With one who walked home.

And so it begins =]

2009-05-14T12:14:00.000-07:00

Well I guess this is my first blog, I should try and make it special or at least interesting...so here I go!

I write a lot and rarely seen without a pen and pad in my bag. I love to write poetry and have recently tried writing prose, so far so good =] I plan to post things on here every week, whether it be poetry or something else I think you might find entertaining.

Oh and check out my 'sister blog' the address is www.poemkid.blogspot.com. Her poetry is amazing! Go take a look!!

So here's a poem to get started, feedback is greatly appreciated!

Inspiring me, Ignoring them.

Uncomfortable chairs stand in disarray
after the day that – for me – was inspirational.
Hearing each line as was intended,
showed me how poetry is meant
to feel, to be heard like music,
with rhythm.
free.
to thought and experience.
association and likeness,
which the others don’t understand.

They’d sat, and moaned and complained.
making jokes
not seeing the magic before them
of words, powerful and real
unlike the screens they’ll go back to
for hours, to forget
what they’d consider
to be a waste of ‘gaming time’.
Cheek.
They merely snored through your
encouragement
and language
They couldn’t be reached
But if I was the only soul touched
by your presence
your poetry
then I hope it was worth it.

Thanks for reading, hope I haven't bored you already :)

x