Two minutes of musings

Written in about two minutes when my boyfriend was inspiring me....its not perfect, and heck it needs some refining, but that's the beauty of poetry. So Bene sweetheart, this is for you...not about you ;-)

Sitting on the doorstep, when we first met....clothed in silk and satin, a day you won't forget. You dream a million dreams, but its never what it seems. You left me standing on my own, forgot the love I'd ever shown. I miss your rich kisses, the chance to become your misses. But you never bought my ring, or let me hear you sing. Let me try again my prince, let me be your girl. With out you I am nothing you are my perfect world......

Jade

I sit in silence- empty space.
Weaving thoughts into a web.

I stare blankly at the dark spot on the wall- murder?

Your face appears before me-a hallucination? or just the lights from the TV?

"Speak to me, please sweet mother."

Silence...silence...silence- booming like thunder, crashing down on me.

My needles click together.

My web is growing larger- each thread connected to another.

Each life connected to mine.

Gone.

They sit around the coffee table like two old friends. They share a warm smile. Sip at a hot mug of decaf coffee. Simple small talk:
- the weather
- family
- friends.
It seems easy enough.

They elaborate. Describing days out at the park with their children. Honest Innocent fun. Jokes, and laughter at what little Sam is doing. Nothing more. Just two friends catching up.

Soon it becomes more. A delicate foot slides along a leg. Warm hands touching. Deeper breaths. But only friends.

A delicate tongue caressing the ear, a gentle stroke of her hair. Maybe more than just friends.

They begin to read deeper into little mannerisms. Was that really a twitch or a suggestive wink of the eye? Was that touch an accident or could he not resist?

They see their partners grow weak, eyes sunken,hair turning grey, there children slip away from them. No more excitement in this "friendship." More than just friends?

Inspired by gifts and loans*

Free to fly posted by soph

Shut your eyes. Embrace the skies.
Flutter your wings. See what hope brings.
Fly the breeze. Soar high with ease.

Lift of the ground. Silence no sound.
Clear your mind. No longer man kind.
You're free to fly. Let out a sigh.

Peace is above. Fly like a dove.
elegant and regal. Fly like an eagle.
streamlined and slight. Fly like a kite.

Clean your soul. You now have a goal.
Your nearing the top. There's no time to stop.
Paradise within grip. Don't let it slip.

Imagination runs wild. Let out your inner child.
Innocent and free once more. Happiness to the very core.

You will no longer be able to find some of my older poems on my blog. My poetry says alot about me as a person. When I wrote some of my older poems I wasn't always the person I wanted to be. I needed breathing space to reinvent myself and to practice being the person I want to be. So now I will try my best to write again when I have the time, in between my work and other things. However my style will change. I'm happy to be who I am now, with a true friend right beside me. I hope you enjoy my writing :)

Perfectly peaceful
The night that is perfectly peaceful, we close our eyes, to a world of gentle wishes, soft as the sky. The dream that flows like water, silky as my sheets. The rise and fall of a childs chest. Shhh, not a breath to be heard.

Words- posted by Soph

Words. Lifeless, bitter, exciting, flamboyant, dull, vivid, colourful...

So many different emotions so many words...

Open an empty notebook and play with words to paint any picture with any tone.

Words give us our identity. The language we use tells others who we are and how we act. Do you speak posh? Do you speak with an accent? Do you speak your first language? You are your words.

Words are our thoughts, they are our dreams, they help us to communicate and live our lives.

Heaven's Missing an Angel posted by Nanda

Honestly, I don’t understand why
They took our loved ones to the sky
It takes away your smile
Then you cry for quite awhile
Thoughts of my beloved
My hands trying to reach the sky above

They say it’s because heaven’s missing an angel
That He took her away to be His guardian angel
They say ‘darling, wipe away your tears’
Let the rain wash away your fears
You needn’t grasp too hard to the past
For it will never last

And I know, heaven’s missing an angel
Though my heart still throbs in pain
And I’ll always be holding in vain
To your smile, To your laugh
Now it’ll never be enough
Cause heaven’s missing an angel
To make my guardian angel

From Your Secret Admirer posted by Nanda

I can recall, all those hours, minutes, seconds, that I spent looking at him from afar. Behind the tall bookshelves of the library, among dusty books I would peek, just to catch a glimpse of him. I would stand there, or when my feet would start to hurt, I’d sit on the plain floor at an angle where I can continue my ‘silent’ watching.

He’s always there, on Monday mornings, sitting on the seat I loved to call his ‘favourite spot’. Although I didn’t know if it was his favourite spot or it was just the only space vacant at the times he chose to visit the library. Eyes furrowed, staring seriously at the laptop in front of him, sometimes casually flicking through pages of his book. On some days a friend would also be sitting there, but my ultimate focus was on him. It always was.

I didn’t know what pulled me towards him. Sometimes my lips would paint a small smile on my face, when he nods his head, apparently he found what he was looking for in his book then he would type away as if there was no tomorrow. He looked a little childish at those times. It even made me giggle. Maybe it was his simple self, wrapped up in whatever he’s doing at the moment, that completely enchanted me. Or the way he takes of his glasses and closes his eyes.

And then one day… our eyes met. I cursed under my breath as my heart skipped a beat and my stomach filled with the annoying butterflies. I awkwardly concentrated on the book in front of me and tried not to look at him again. One glance and it nearly took my breath away.

He’s a stranger!

I kept on yelling that in my head. But the fuzzy warm feeling won’t step away…

Quickly, I scribbled a little note on the piece of paper I ripped from my book.

I love you.

Your Secret Admirer.

My hand was trembling as I hesitated. I must have lost my mind, thinking that I could just walk up to him, give a pretty smile, drop the note on his table and walk away. Did I hit my head or something? I tore the note into pieces and left my hiding place. Yes, between the bookshelves with dusty books. I looked forward to next Monday. Always.

I've had enough

Hey you!

Yes I mean you!

Its too late to run kid, i've already seen you.

Oh really?

Yeah if you say so.

You were here last week too weren't you?

Don't lie I saw you.

damn kids hanging around here, don't think I don't know what your up to.

well go ahead chucking your stuff all over. I'm so sick of this. First the water spilling when I dip the mop, then all this packaging from sweets lying around...

oh and the dust collecting

and my back aches.

Its so unfair I have to do this. That ass who didn't want to take me as an assistant...If I could just...
just...
just...

but no I need the money.

One day i'll show you all i'm better than a caretaker.

You turned up one day on my doorstep. Just like that. The bell rang and my heels clicked across the hallway to answer. I gazed down upon you, trying for the life of me to imagine what you could want. The time was half past midnight and I hadn't even began to think about sleep. My conscience was eating away at me, all I wanted was some alone time . You were the last thing I expected to turn up.

Wearily I led you in to the sitting room. I plumped up the old purple cushions embroidered with flowers and gestured to you to sit down. I wanted to turn you away. I wanted just to slam the door in your face like I would to a door sales man, but that would be like closing a door to my past. Trapping my emotions in a room and locking them up for ever.

Stirring my tea with a plastic stirrer I sighed heavily. I watched you taking small sips and waited for some kind of explanation. I blew heavily on my tea. A sigh escaped my lips and I looked down into the tea. I needed to say something.

"So what brought you here tonight?" I asked with a tinge of annoyance in my voice.

The woman cleared her throat, "I'm sure you don't need me to answer that question Anita."

"I'm sure I do" I replied. It was no use, the realisation was evident in my voice. My eyes looked tired as if they had seen to much in this lifetime. I took the fragile woman's hand in mine. She stared into my eyes, her watery pale blue eyes digging deep into my soul.

"Why can't you just admit that mistakes happen?" I muttered. "Both of us were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"You can keep believing that if you wish." She said in the type of voice that makes the very core of you wobble like jelly.

"When you decide to grow up and behave like an adult maybe you will take the duster out of the closet and brush the dust of your delusional memories. But until then the fact isn't going to go away."I looked down, trying to free my self of the grip she had over me.

All of a sudden I burst of anger exploded inside me.

"It wasn't me who killed her, Julia. It was you. Don't talk to me about hiding from the truth."

"You said it yourself, we were both in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Like a cloud in the summer sky, the memory drifted back into my mind. It was a cool spring morning and everything seemed perfectly normal. I had just dropped my son off at his boarding school after an enjoyable week together. I was running low on food supplies and Gracie needed some new clothes so decided I would go to the shopping centre.

I felt exhausted and needed a coffee. I dumped my bag on the seat next to me and sipped, deep in thought.

And then the bomb EXPLODED.

Children's screams vibrated in my ears. Babies wailed. The shopping centre was in havoc. Bodies lay littered on the floor. I was running for the exit before my legs had even be told to by my brain. But then Julia's place solemn face caught my eye. She was the only one not screaming or running for the exit. She looked pale. I stared at her for a few seconds holding eye contact for just a fraction.

She leaned her back to the door and slid down to the floor. Eyes shut she looked almost as if she was deep in sleep. I ran to help her. She would not wake up. Mustering all the strength I could I lifted her up and ran out the door with her in my arms.

I lay her down on a pile of jackets and raised her legs. I waited for her to awaken. Slowly her eye lids flickered open and she repeated a name.

"Aimee. Aimee. Aimee I killed Aimee."

"Go back. fetch Aimee."

I whispered gently to her, "We cant go back in there."

My mind was churning over all the things I had seen. Who was Aimee? what did Julia do to kill her?

Little did I realise just how tangled up in this mystery I was to become.


To be continued.....

Ode:To The earth - attempt

Beautiful earth, I question why you flair up with rage creating the greatest hurricane.

Why you flash with temper to create such beautiful lightening.

When you feel happy you smile down on us, blinding us by your bright teeth.

When you love us you shine for us, when you hate us you try to wash away our sin.

You never deny us the right to beauty, you never pretend to ignore our prayers.

Rose?

I shivered as I felt an icy chill travel down my neck. Rumor has it a child died here...

Entangled in my own thoughts, I watched on sombrely. Happy children giggled and chattered spreading glitter over Christmas cards, the walls, and the floor too. One child looked like an angel. Big Innocent eyes, blond springy ringlets and a big cheesy smile to match. She turned to look as she became aware I was staring at her.

Before I could stop myself, my daughters name escaped my lips. Rose? I whispered hoarsely. The word repeated its self like an echo in my head. Rose? Forcing itself out and shattering like shards of glass into a thousand pieces.

Mothers turned to face me, expressions of shock possessing their features.

''lunatic'' cried one woman, with dark brown eyes and an expression of poison on her face.

''I...I...I was just''...I stammered out trying to explain myself. It was no use. My words flew out like a slap in the face. Desperately trying to steady myself, I grabbed hold of the nearest hand I could reach. Tears streamed down my face leaving glistening tracks.

Rose a voice inside me screamed.

''my baby come here''

But it was no use. My words hit the walls and re bounded. No presence here but my own.

Rose had long ago descended. I was just a lunatic with a heart stuffed full to the brim of insanity.

Tagged

I've been tagged by Gavin, my reqirements are to answer the following questions and then to tag all the other amazing people I can think of :)

1. What is the last thing you wrote? what is the first thing you wrote that you still have?

The last thing I wrote was the two short poems below about the two things in the world which make me happiest.


Either the first thing I wrote that I still have was a poem about dinosaurs which won a competition or a poem at school for my mum. It was for mothers day about why I love my mum. It was a poem. I sometimes dig it out if I need a laugh. To sum it up, I loved mum for doing the cleaning. I remember it made all my teachers laugh and I couldn't understand why!

2.Write poetry?
I attempt to.


3. Angsty poetry
Unfortunately the tone of some seem to appear it.


4.Favourite genre of writing?
Reflective writing. (Yeah not a genre but hey) I like writing that makes people think.

5.Most annoying character you have ever created?

That's a tough one because most of my work is about thoughts and feelings rather than characters.

6.Best plot you have ever created?
Hmm, that's a tough one again. Probably the Shadow chaser, which I haven't posted.

7.Coolest plot twist you have ever created?
I really can't remember I have written so many.

8.How often do you get writers block?
Too often. Most of the time in fact. I like to vary my writing rather than stick to the same tone (defiantly something I fail at) Usually this means I am trying to think of new ways to create something exciting and different. Some days I just can't seem to get my ideas across the way I want them.

9.Write fan fiction?
No, its not my style.


10.Do you type or write by hand?
Most of the type I just start typing, but sometimes I like to write it by hand in a notebook. This is usually when I want to go somewhere like the woods or to a river which inspires me. Sometimes I write by hand to give myself a computer break though.


11. Do you save everything you write?
I save most things, usually because they contain a memory I can't bear to let go of. If I am writing to let it all out, I wont save. This usually ends up looking depressed and emo, which is not
a good thing.


12. Do you ever go back to an idea when you have abandoned it?
Not usually. If I see something which inspires me to continue I may give it another try.


13. Whats your favourite thing you have ever written?
This is an easy one! A ghost story I wrote for a competition. It was about a girl chasing a Shadow to find her soul. I think I scared myself reading it back. Dark and spooky is a style that comes more naturally to me.

14. Whats everyone else's favourite story you have ever written?
I have no idea. I tend to write for myself rather than others. I only know the opinions of those who comment.


15.Ever written romance or angsty teen drama?
Romance? Yes, but usually mixed in with another style. Straight up slushy romance is boring to read. Angusty teen drama?No not really.


16. Whats your favourite setting for characters?
That's a tough one because I tend to focus on the characters feelings and emotions rather than the settings.


17. How many writing projects are you working on right now?
I just started one writing a story behind a picture, but it didn't work out the way I wanted. I'm writing a poem for someone else so that is my main focus at the moment.


18. Have you ever won an award for your writing?
Umm...I won a couple of poetry competitions..does that count? maybe not then.


19.what are your five favourite words?
passion
motivation
love
hate
reflection


20.what character have you created that is most like yourself?
Most of my writing is written from my perspective so all of them I guess. Probably a character who spends a lot of time on her own thinking. A character who is best friends with her imagination.

21. Where do you get your ideas for your characters?
The character normally develops as my writing does.



22.Do you ever write based on your dreams?
No, I tend to write based on my current feelings. I save my dreams for in my head. Although I suppose certain pieces are influenced by them.


23. Do you favour happy endings?
No I don't. I prefer endings which are true to life. Although often in life there are happy endings, there isn't always. A poem or story which makes the audience think about their character, or their behavior is best. Even if sometimes it doesn't end the way the reader wants. So I guess I would say, I favour endings which evoke reflection.

24. are you concerned with spelling and grammar as you write?
That's one of the hardest parts of writing to me. I am picky about spelling and grammar although I am bad at it. If I or someone else notices a mistake in my writing I will go straight back and correct it.

25. Does music help well you write?
Defiantly. Often music is my inspiration. Music gives me the ideas and gets me in to the flow. I don't know where I would be without it.


26.Quote something you have written. Whatever pops in your head.
''Never too old to leave my childhood. Never too old to old to completely shed my childhood skin. Maturity has time to let me laugh back moments that I had tried to lock away. No room in my life to deny myself. No time to deny the moments that shape you. Laughter, smiles and honesty fall back into my outreached hands. Close around them and never let them go. ''

Now tag other awesome blogs

Oleuanna

Pierre

Two short poems posted by Soph

Rainbow soul
Brush sweeps across the pallet, erasing black and white. Combining oranges, pinks, blues and greens.Colours dribble and mingle.

Take the hand of your brother, for there is no perfect. There is no superior. There is no inferior.

When does an artist paint a beautiful landscape with just one colour?

Only one beauty exists;inner beauty. When the rain falls down let the rainbow of your soul shine brightly. It's time to join hands with your brothers and sisters.

We are all one race. We are all human.


Carpe Diem

Waves or pleasure surge through my body when I see your face smiling down at me. Looking at me and loving me. I shut my eyes again hoping you won't notice.

I hear your soothing whispers. I don't respond. I'll wait until later to tell you I was listening.

Your beautiful face, your soft smiling eyes. The way you laugh at my jokes.

You encourage me to achieve my potential. You are the person who makes me who I am.

~~thank you Gav for making me try something
different...I'm pleased I managed to do it :) you rock~~

The beauty of art

Sometimes in life one can experience thoughts that are beyond capeable of being expressed by the human languague. Thoughts which require deeper exploration. Few people have the gifts or the creative flair to adress these inner thoughts calling them to produce a reflective peice of art work.


The main focus of a peice of art work is the beautiful composition and colours used to demonstrate the feelings and emotions of the artist. Each picture means more than just a peice of art to hang on the wall. They represent the painters outlook on life, and a way of untangling many confused emotions. It would be imposible for me to pick my favourite peice because each peice represents a different issue and a different perspective. However, Some works of art which really make me think are:



Study on the wall by Julian Opie- This is an extrememly thought provoking picture. What really grabbed me about it was the way the characters are pictured emotionless and empty. It almost looked as if they were looking out of a glass box. The expressions used in this picture are very significant because they are what creates the mood of the picture. The picture almost looks as if the characters are locked out of the room in a dream. The way the colours are kept to a minimal, using just black and white illustrates the drabness and the bordom the artist aims to convey through this picture. I can relate to this picture, as can many I'm sure. It reminds me of the feeling of not being able to connect properly.



The origin of the world by Anish Kapoor- This work of art is based mainly around the use of empty space. This appears to be endless, offering the observer the chance to try to find the end to an empty world. The black overall shape in the centre is a symbol which encourages the observer to put the world in to perspectice. The shape representing the world and the space representing the emptyness which surrounds us. When creating the peice of art work Kapoor clearly wanted us to think about the significance of a human being against the universe. The colours are used to show the bleak reality of our exsistance, and possibly that we have a chance to add colour to our lives.

The crime scene posted by Soph

At the time of the crime there were just 5 witnesses.

Hate

Anger

Jealousy

Truth

Greed.

Greed slapped jealousy in the face. Anger fuelled hate. Truth stood alone, staring into space.

Blood dribbled off the knife forming a pool on the ground. Honesty lay face down on the floor.

Truth looked hate in the eyes and enquired

''Who commited the crime?''

Greed yelled back, it was jealousy. Jealously blamed anger. Anger blamed hate. Hate blamed greed.

No one would accept responcibility for the crime.

Is war the answer? posted by Soph

Broken world...broken people...broken love.

Is war the answer to our troubles?

Why must we take arms in attempt to resolve our conflict?

Why can no one give me answers?

Why...why...why?

My voice posted by Soph

Flood in the light to block out the dark,
break down the walls that guard the heart.

Reveal the secrets to cover the lies,
identity drowning in the tears of my eyes.

Innocence gone at the flick of a switch,
To love or to hate - I can't decide which.

Imagaination glows firey and alight,
Passion lives in me, gone is the night.

You make me laugh, you make me smile,
time spent with you, seems so worthwhile.

True love kicks the heart and tears at the soul,
Finally motivation,i'm left with a goal.

To live or to die is not a hard choice,
when hapiness speaks out love is my only voice.

Never again posted by Soph

Words can't describe the tension in the atmosphere. Each breath felt like one step closer to the end. Every so often I would hear him whisper comfort to me, but it didn't register.


I felt his hands stroking my hair, and every time we heard a slightest noise both of us would jump and he would grab my hand tighter. After a while I tried to relax us both. I kissed him gently but it was no use. I could taste the fear on his lips.


He got us in to this mess in the first place, I thought to myself. I let out a deep breath just to break the spinetingling silence which engulfed the room. I was almost thankful when he reached his arms out moaning, as if he was in a bad dream which he couldn't break out of.


I knew I was going to have to say something to him sooner or later. Clasping all the courage I could reach, I managed to mutter, I thought you said you weren't going to do it again?


He nodded gravely, merely to acknowledge what I had said, but didn't reply. Frustrated I tried again. I wanted to hit him hard.

''You could have killed me I choked out.''

It wasn't like that'' he said, anger clearly possessing his voice.

''Then how was it?'' I answered equally as defensively.
Arms folded, my face in creases of rage.

''It was just something I had to do.''

''Oh yeah'' I drooled sarcastically back,

''just like feeding the cat.''

I knew I was provoking him. I didn't know just how far...

Curiousity posted by Soph

I am the urge to look, experience, feel new things,

the urge to see new places,

to taste new sensations.

I am the start of a lifelong process,

the end of a closed mind,

I am opportunity,

I am fear,

I am happiness,

I am the chance to explore.

I never seek it, it comes with me everywhere,

It causes me to experiment,

It causes me to ask questions,

Its not an option, its not a choice, its not a feeling, nor a sense.

Its a part of everyone, but few embrace it,

Its something I didn't look hard to find. But something I can never loose.