This is a poem that I wrote at a workshop where we wrote thoughts down on pieces of paper and picked them out of a hat and then wrote what came to us from the pieces.
Cheating hearts.
A receipt from a present never received
A ghost of feelings once perceived
To fill the void of an empty heart
A walk by the sea,a good place to start.
To walk, to see, beside the sea
The savage landscape, a barren scene.
A piece of mind from howling winds
The empty presence serenity brings.
A canvas, blank. A wordless book.
A fresh page to fill. A touch. A look.
A cat who walks all by himself
An empty vase on a cluttered shelf.
The scenes that crowd an empty thought.
The flowers and the chocolate bought.
The late night calls, work overtime
Tells me you're no longer mine.
The silence at the end of the phone
The way you take the long way home
The dinners that are in the dog
Images crowd through the fog
Of skin on skin and whispered rhymes
A scene that is no longer mine.
Sunlight streams onto an empty bed
The tangled sheets of all we shared
The wedding band now shackled on
Empty soul, the love long gone.
X
Monday, April 30, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
I really am such a bad blogger! Ages since I last wrote anything. You must be feeling very neglected. Sorry about that.
Well, in case you're interested I have made some fairly drastic life changes recently. I moved back to Southampton and am busy building my menagerie with new housemate (more on him later), I'm preparing for the regional final of the live and unsigned competition mainly by pretending that it's all a dream and that it's happening to someone else otherwise I may just have a freak out. Sing in front of over a hundred people. Good god I must be mad.
I've also been accepted to university to do a degree in comedy writing and performance although since being told that my writing is funny by a college professor I've found that I can't write anything! Not a thing. As soon as I try and put pen to paper to write a song or a blog post my mind starts with it's bloody annoying negativity. None of it is very funny. Or maybe it's because I've stopped being a drunken fool and meeting random weirdos? No that can't be it, I still meet random weirdos except that now they're my friends.
Sigh.
See, boring.
I can't even come up with any lists of things I hate or that annoy me. It's like apathy has sunken into my bones and I can't string a coherent sentence together. Maybe this is what it's like to be thick? Maybe I should give up, start wearing pink tracksuit bottoms with juicy or whatever slogan they use nowadays on the arse and start chain smoking? Next stop Jeremy Kyle! Please help, I'm turning into everyone else. Now there's a show that would have everyone reaching for the remote in droves. Turn this shit off, it's not sensational enough they would cry and then log on to watchdog to complain.
I've never understood that.
"Dear Ann Robinson
Loved you on the Weakest link, bit nasty sometimes though eh? It's nice to be nice and all that. Anyway, I'm writing to complain about the storyline on generic soap opera last week when hot guy one snogged hot guy two. It's not the homosexuality I mind per se (I don't think the complainer would spell that right but I can't bring myself to do it) it's just that the denim jacket he was wearing clashed hideously with the armchair fabric and I feel that that's something the producers should have thought about before they aired the episode at tea time. Proper put me off my pie and chips that did. (I know you're all reading this in a Yorkshire accent now!) I would have turned over but Hollyoaks was on the other side and I would have been upset by the complete lack of reality in that programme so decided to make the best of a bad situation and anyway, the remote was sticky because the cat spilled cat milk on it and I have slight OCD and can't touch anything dirty. Shame cos Katie Price looks fantastic.
Anyway, please pass my disgust on to the producers and hopefully I'll be able to eat my tea without retching at the questionable attire of the shows characters.
Yours,
Disgruntled Viewer.
Oh dear, look at the trash my brain is churning out.
I might give it all up and go and work in tescos (other supermarket chains are available and equally as soul destroying)
Well, in case you're interested I have made some fairly drastic life changes recently. I moved back to Southampton and am busy building my menagerie with new housemate (more on him later), I'm preparing for the regional final of the live and unsigned competition mainly by pretending that it's all a dream and that it's happening to someone else otherwise I may just have a freak out. Sing in front of over a hundred people. Good god I must be mad.
I've also been accepted to university to do a degree in comedy writing and performance although since being told that my writing is funny by a college professor I've found that I can't write anything! Not a thing. As soon as I try and put pen to paper to write a song or a blog post my mind starts with it's bloody annoying negativity. None of it is very funny. Or maybe it's because I've stopped being a drunken fool and meeting random weirdos? No that can't be it, I still meet random weirdos except that now they're my friends.
Sigh.
See, boring.
I can't even come up with any lists of things I hate or that annoy me. It's like apathy has sunken into my bones and I can't string a coherent sentence together. Maybe this is what it's like to be thick? Maybe I should give up, start wearing pink tracksuit bottoms with juicy or whatever slogan they use nowadays on the arse and start chain smoking? Next stop Jeremy Kyle! Please help, I'm turning into everyone else. Now there's a show that would have everyone reaching for the remote in droves. Turn this shit off, it's not sensational enough they would cry and then log on to watchdog to complain.
I've never understood that.
"Dear Ann Robinson
Loved you on the Weakest link, bit nasty sometimes though eh? It's nice to be nice and all that. Anyway, I'm writing to complain about the storyline on generic soap opera last week when hot guy one snogged hot guy two. It's not the homosexuality I mind per se (I don't think the complainer would spell that right but I can't bring myself to do it) it's just that the denim jacket he was wearing clashed hideously with the armchair fabric and I feel that that's something the producers should have thought about before they aired the episode at tea time. Proper put me off my pie and chips that did. (I know you're all reading this in a Yorkshire accent now!) I would have turned over but Hollyoaks was on the other side and I would have been upset by the complete lack of reality in that programme so decided to make the best of a bad situation and anyway, the remote was sticky because the cat spilled cat milk on it and I have slight OCD and can't touch anything dirty. Shame cos Katie Price looks fantastic.
Anyway, please pass my disgust on to the producers and hopefully I'll be able to eat my tea without retching at the questionable attire of the shows characters.
Yours,
Disgruntled Viewer.
Oh dear, look at the trash my brain is churning out.
I might give it all up and go and work in tescos (other supermarket chains are available and equally as soul destroying)
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