Hush - Extended version.
Current mood: creative
Category: Endarkened Writing and Poetry

Seek not the beauty
of the swamp
to look is not the way.
Be still.
Cease
incessant seeking,
stand and simply

Stay.

I once was the river that
runs through caverns deep. 
Within the soul of earth I hid;
embracing sunless seas.

Only once did I emerge,
to flow amidst decadent
purple Primose Haze,
Lily Lithe and Mary Gold.

Transparent,
my pure waters,
blinded,
blushed crimson
in the Autumn sun.

I fall,
I fold
back
into my shadow.
I shall stay.

Illuminating night
bathes me in shards
of dappled darkness.
Aurora sparkles dance
red guilt jig in the dim
of dusky Eve.

Clouds descend to wrap
me head to feet in veils
of clarity. I awake to face
the certain sureness of the blind

Still waters may stagnate
And though rare
the beauty of life
without movement,
Still
there is beauty
of life.

Currently listening : Wreck of the Day By Anna Nalick Release date: 11 July, 2006

4:05 AM - 8 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Poetry Tag.
Current mood: tired
Category: Writing and Poetry

I've been blog tagged by John. I will now go on to tag 10 of my favorite poets, please answer these questions if I tag you and keep the tag going! ...

Nine questions about poetry

1. The first poem I remember reading/hearing and reacting to was..

The first thing I remember reacting to, though I would never have admitted it at the time, was the Sir Walter Scott quote 'Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to decieve'. I was 15 and I remember being facinated by these two lines. The imagery of the web metaphor and the simplicity of the rhyme in saying something that I found to be at the time, really profound, really struck me and I remember saying this to myself over and over again. Maybe that is the reason that I have always been so honest!

2. I was forced to memorize (name of poem) in school and…..

I don't remember ever being forced to memorise anything to be honest!


3. I read/don't read poetry because….

Its probably because when I find something I really love, the feeling is incredible. Poetry can cause reactions in so many different ways, mental stimulation, emotional but also physical. There are some poems I read that have the same affect on me as listening to beautiful music, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and getting goosebumps all over. I read poetry for the same reason I listen to music, because I love it. It's my escape and my therapy. Without poetry and music I would have had a nervous breakdown by now.

4. A poem I'm likely to think about when asked about a favorite poem is…..

Lady Lazarus is always the first to pop into my head.

5. I write poetry but…

I don't consider myself to be any good at it! I also have not written much at all lately. I know what writers block is now, must be awful when you rely on writing to pay the bills.

6. My experience with reading poetry differs from my experience with reading other types of literature…..

Other types of literature dont need much thought going into decoding the meaning. I find a lot of poetry needs to be examined line by line in order to extract the meaning. Poetry also is open to a more personal interpretation than other forms of literature, there is no right or wrong interpretation, poetry can be what you make of it. There are also those poems that need no examination, that can be read in a short amount of time and contain little gems of imagery or meaning. I would rather read a short poem that paints a vivid picture in my mind, than sit and read a novel's description of the same scene. In poetry again, the imagery is created in your own head and you can interpret it in your own way. In a novel it is very much about the authors image.

7. I find poetry…..   

to be the art form that has the most snobbish critics. Poets seem to be so much quicker and keener to slate another persons work than in music, art or film. What is it about poetry that makes some people feel they have the right to tell others that their work is shit? If a person had just picked up a guitar, someone who had been playing years would never expect them to even strum it correctly straight away, let alone string chords together beautifully. They would encourage, nurture and advise them. Yet I have seen so many people who are first trying their hand at poetry get their confidence knocked to pieces by accomplished writers who are so far up their own arses they can't remember a time when they were new to writing. It makes me sick to be honest.

8. The last time I heard poetry...

was yesterday when I read one of Larry's pieces out loud to hear the sibilence.

9. I think poetry is:

the perfect way to think about or express emotions or thoughts that you dont get the opportunity to consider in your day to day life.

12:00 AM - 7 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Rolling Thunder (written with Dan)
Current mood: content
Category: Writing and Poetry

How many people get to write a poem with their favorite poet? I wrote to Dan and asked if he would help me out as I haven't had the confidence or inspiration to write anything for a while and as he is a top geezer he gladly helped and this was the result. I love it :)

Rolling Thunder

I see the darkness
of the day, drift amongst
the passing cars and
the pale faces of worn
memory and forgotten love.
Summer is somewhere
in the shadows of these
blanket skies.

For rain bleeds on
window panes
and I see the ghost of our past
move with innocent whispers,
past the dark frame
of my eyes.

Fragments of youth
fade in and radiate
my mind, teasing
reminders of
forgotten summer days,
now smudged and blurred
as the rain shows
my sentiment
no mercy.

Fishing rods gather dust,
the sand coated baskets
are left fraying in
the cold dew of the cellar.
No one can ever know
the beauty of those days,
where meadows
and forests were swollen
with life and bloom,
and time was derailed in
the blazing heat.

My screen
flickers images
of a dying world.
Crops cannot
feed, drowning in
their plots, they rot.
Cattle huddles for shelter,
fodder now simply mud.

Too late, too late,
this futile desperation.
You cannot build
the dam
after the floods.

Outside, the deluge
pounds at my window.
The tumultuous surge
angrily stakes its claim.
Once majestic
sunflowers now bent
in resignation, reeling
in the force of the rain.

And so I
bow my head,
press my fingers
to the glass,
for where did it go?
The Dream of yesteryear,
of a youth spent setting sails
on the gilded horizons of adventure.
Defused in the storms?
Snuffed out in the gales of dust?
Once the desire to conquer
my dreams was strong,
now I find they falter in complacency,
out on the winds of vanity
they disappear.

And like the saplings left muddied
in the rising soils,
victim to an everlasting thunder,
I remain the quiet fantasy,
for like me they shall
never feel the sunshine
break the harshest of dawns.
No, nor feel it kiss the
flow of our endless tears.

Currently watching : The Fog of War - Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S. McNamara Release date: 11 May, 2004

3:21 PM - 5 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

Poems I wrote in the 5 min poetry thread.
Current mood: grateful
Category: Writing and Poetry

Fields of Flowers.

We wander amist
fields of flowers.
Her eyes light up
at the sight of petals,
turned towards the sun.
Instictively she has to
feel, to take in the scent,
the sensation of touching
the softness of nature,
at its most fragile form.
In this moment I could
not love her more.

old books

Never judge a
book by its cover.
This sleeve is
old and flaky grey,
the yellowed pages,
too delicate to touch,
for fear of reducing
them to a powdery mist.

Gently I finger
the pages of this
precious remnant
of time, of lives
now gone and
long forgotten. Though
the words are
faded, the ink
still remains
and the message
behind them, is still
just the same.

The Time That Never Was.

Each night I
tuck her in,
and gently sing
her off to sleep.
I thank...someone,
for what I have, for
this was the time
that never was....

So close to
my demise,
before he came
I was

Engulfed.
I lost my mind
so long ago,
now I've lost my
grip on any
sanity that may
have remained.
Alone.
I cannot face
the world
too cruel, too
cold to survive
Alone.

Thank...God?
That this was
the time that
never was.

Currently reading : A Grand Delusion: America's Descent Into Vietnam By Robert Mann Release date: 09 January, 2001

4:38 PM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

John John
Current mood: sad
Category: Writing and Poetry

He was so good we named him twice.

He always wore flannel shirts,
the ones that are really soft.
I would sit beside him, and wait
for his arm to raise and fall around me.

I remember the feel of his hand
firm on my shoulder, he would
rock me, and pat me and ruffle my hair.
The older I got the more he would

struggle to claim his reward of my
giggles. Had I known, I would have
laughed each time. Laughed until I cried.
He died, just when I needed him,

just when I needed him most.
I never got to tell him how I
loved the feel of his hand on my
shoulder, how I thought of him as

more of a father than my real Dad
ever was. And he's gone.
He never married. He had no kids.
There is no legacy left from him.

Only a family who may never have
told him, he was more to us, so
much more than it ever seemed.
He was so good we named him

twice.

2:48 AM - 6 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

My Celebrity Look-alikes

11:26 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

My Celebrity Look-alikes

http://www.myheritage.com

8:07 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

unfinished
Current mood: sad
Category: Writing and Poetry

She has forbidden
the luxury of tears.
She refuses to allow
her eyes to cry.

Alone in her room,
she knows no-one
will come, she'll do it
herself, she always has.

Stubborn independence
such a hard habit to break,
Grit teeth defiance as to
protect me she says,

'It's only pain, I don't mind.
Don't worry, I won't die.'

Eyes dead ahead she lifts
two fingers to the face of
this life impediment, smiling
triumphant with each breath.

4:13 PM - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

She Heals Me Over
Current mood: content
Category: Writing and Poetry

Here I lay
blanketed by strings.
Caresses of chords
strum through my strain,
of must do's and send me.
Off to a time
before life crammed into me,
hours not long enough
to fill my days
with anything more than lists.

Here I lay
falling, spinning
into control.
Guided by her voice
ascending, she sends me.
back to the place
I have yearned to be.
And for now,
for this moment, I feel
like me.

Currently listening : Eye To The Telescope By KT Tunstall Release date: 07 February, 2006

12:27 AM - 7 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

The John Denmark interview-sorry it took me so long John!
Current mood: Should be working on assignment-doing this instead
Category: Should be working on assignment-doing this instead Life

The John Denmark interview


1. What is the best thing that could happen to you just now?

Hmmmm, I can think of a lot of things, but at this time in my life I wish my parents would get back together, or both meet someone new. My Dad had a minor stroke last week and is expecting to go into hospital for a triple heart bypass soon; my Mum is poorly with a condition called Scleroderma which is causing her a lot of pain, she can hardly get around at the moment. Both of them live alone and in different parts of the country to me and I am feeling extremely frustrated that I can't be there on a regular basis to help either one of them out. So if there were some kind of miracle that could happen to reunite them, they could help each other out and not be alone. That would be the best thing I can think of happening. Either that or my winning enough money to buy 3 houses in a row so I could have one parent either side of me lol.

2. Besides people, what gives you your greatest inspiration?

Music. No doubt about it, music inspired me to stay alive when I was in the lowest point of my life so far, and without it-I dunno what I would have done.

3. Once the course is done and you've achieved your grades - what next?

Well, I'm hopping to go into teacher training. But I have lately been considering going into the information service (libraries and stuff) but I'm not really sure to be honest. I want to start earning as soon as possible so that Matt and I will be in a better financial situation and may be able to afford a house in Kent so I can be closer to my Mum. I do think teaching would be the best career for me, but I have a little niggling doubt which is due to my complete lack of confidence when it comes to speaking in front of people. But I guess that is something that will get better with time and practise.

4. Who, from the past or present, is invited to your grand summer ball?

Matt and Chloe of course. My family in Deal. My family in Wolverhampton. My Dad and his sister. My friends from school. All the people I worked with while I was living in London-not including my boss. My nephew Kyle. All of the friends I've known and lost touch with. My Mum's Dad, who I never met cos he dies when Mum was 15. My first boyfriend Paul, my ex-fiance Ken. You, Mel, EAP, Neil, The Unknownn and a few more myspace friends I can't be bothered to think of at the moment lol  Debbie Harry, Brandon Boyd, Paz Lenchantin, Chino Morino, John Lennon, Jim Morrison, Flea, Shirley Manson, Billy Corgan, Chris Cornell, Gerard Way-god the list is endless and I'm still only on music!! You get the picture lol. 

5. Your time machine awaits for a trip somewhere - where will you go and who would you like to meet?

OMG!!! I would go the 1780's. Revolution!!! Must have been an amazingly exciting time to be alive. I would have met, hmmmm. Wordsworth and Coleridge! OR I would go to the early 19th Century and fight Mary for Percy Shelley-do you think I would win?? lol


THE GUIDELINES:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."

2. I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Currently listening : Team Sleep By Team Sleep Release date: 10 May, 2005

1:42 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

21st Century 1984.
Current mood: worried
Category: Writing and Poetry

About six months ago,
I snuck out of a party;
I wasn't having fun,
nor my daughter.

So, we went to the park,
just across the street.
Round about midnight,
I helped her on the swing.

Her laughter echoed through
poorly lit orange streets;
as her best dress billowed
and puffed in the breeze.

I remember thinking-
'I hope that when she's grown,
she'll remember this night
when her silly Mummy stole
her away.'

I remember hoping,
she might hold this memory dear.
Our midnight escape to her
favorite place, her first taste
of archaic, wanton fun.

Till a voice
cut through the moment,
stopped us in our tracks.

'This park is closed!!
Please leave
or police will be notified!'

There was no-one around,
'Who said that Mummy?'
My baby was confussed,
so was I. Till I realised.

George Orwell, was no novelist.
It was not fiction that he wrote.
A visionary, a prophet.
He warned us-years ago.

6:40 AM - 5 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

Dilemma
Current mood: peaceful
Category: Writing and Poetry

Dilemma.

Do I irritate you?
Within seconds
of returning home,
I'm thinking,
'Should I
just go?'

Your mind,
never seems
to rest on me.
Flitting forever,
between money and
work, work
and money.

Should we give up?
For when it seems,
we may have found
some kind
of middle ground,
it turns out to be
an epicenter,
magnitude
eight point three.

Still
your will is strong.
Your mind made up;
always countering,
my need to lose.

Still
Why do you wait,
till I'm on my knees,
before offering
the support I need,
to think to myself-

'How would I stand
without you?'

1:07 AM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

House is not a Home
Current mood: okay
Category: Writing and Poetry

How can these walls
have such a hold on me?
Each time I feel I'm ready
it turns a little,
tightens it's grip.

This is what I wanted.

Set my mind on:
this kitchen;
this garden;
this lounge;
this...

bedroom...

You were meant
to make me happy,
why now do I feel
so trapped? You mock
my material dreams,
as again you turn
and tighten.

This is not what I wanted.

Euphoniuos laughter
I heard in my mind,
returns now to taunt.
You are laughing at me;
at my foolish belief,
that your walls
could make
me happy.

1:05 AM - 4 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Treasure Hunt
Current mood: mellow
Category: Writing and Poetry

where did it go?
Can't see for looking.
know it's here sOmewhere.
did soMeone take it?
will you helP me? please?
tAke a look,
inSide yourSelf
show me It's not dead!
loOk harder,
i kNow it's here,
somewhere.

Currently listening : Wide Awake By Twang Release date: 22 March, 2007

1:58 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Common Ruin-EAP's picture poem challenge
Current mood: disappointed
Category: Writing and Poetry

There's a place
I often take myself,
Somewhere, I think
near Bulgaria, although
the location
often deludes me.

It's the place
that offers to me
the one thing, one comfort
that I crave the most.
And when my husband
just can't see my point,
when my precious child
seems to only know
just the one word:
'Mummy!!!'

I wish I could go there so.
It's a lot like me you see.
Broken, lonely, abandoned

There would be no need
to wish I could speak
in binary code,
in the hope of perhaps
being heard, understood.
Life could be lived
so sweet, in the sun,

All that it needs
is a little love,
some time
some attention,
it could be beautiful.

you see,
this place,
is a lot
like me.

Currently reading : Middlemarch By George Eliot Release date: 30 January, 2003

1:06 PM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment