Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Paying in buttons

Round in circumference it lay
‘What’ I say
It stayed
A button
No money
They won’t notice

No title(yet)

Pieces of ash
Float with fey dance
Crackled wood
Sparkles with embers
The veins of life burn red, scorching
Then split to overflow with heat
Land on me scalding
I move away
Piece of wood slowly obliterates
More fuel for the fire
The phoenix rejoices with an entrancing
scarlet dance.

Explanation for nothing

Perhaps this is poetry
Though it naught but feels real
Trying to confuse
Everyone with words
I can’t fathom but like
So much
I thought I’d share
The more you give the more you get
So let me see
If there's any poetry left in me

Saturday, October 22, 2011

The wonderments of wondering
Aren't so great after all
Triumphently they fall
Nothing left
Just grey mess
Where green must now come in
Yet how long does green take to grow
A very very long time and very slow

With the planets aligning
The folks down here wait shining
Hoping for a meteor storm to come

Can you guess the songs hidden in this poem?

Eloquent grunting
Beauty from something
Won't you believe it
What!? Oh well
This used to be a funhouse
I found myself in
Would you believe
You had a bad day
Stop collaborate
In five years time
It's the animal
Just as I was having the chocolate
Where is the cheese?

From a phase

I wish I had a black pen
Not yellow blue or sage

Black will raise you out of yellow
Into the deep dark meadow
Where dark things dance at night
Things all so twisted warm and cute
For me these things only suit
Black pens everyday
So on so forth we fly away

Tuesday, August 16, 2011


Something about the sun and the moon makes everyone happy.

the sun is like the moon
the moon is like the sun
each other never reach
standing back to back

without the moon there is no night
without the sun there is no day
 we can't run away
from their rays

when the sun and moon meet
it's a glorious feat
and we have to hide away


Creating a loveable character is harder then I thought. They may sound good by themselves but then encoporate that into a story and sometimes it gets lost in translation I guess. :-( grrrrrrrr Things I have learnt due to self scruntity 1. Someone who lives inside their head and not in reality is interesting but interacting with people becomes disjointed and stilted. This can become a rut as you impress this inside my head persona on other characters. 2. Using quirks and ways of speech from people in my reality makes me feel slightly evil :-) 3. Even if your concentration is moving onto bed/biscuits/tv/people if you have a story thread like a scene/twist KEEP writing  because you will forget in the next 10 minutes and lose it basically almost forever.... this is really hard to remember.

Saturday, July 23, 2011


A flush of warm blood around the ear and a senitiment in the heart. The tingly reach of a cresendo and the pleasant shiver of a barotone. The jovial roundness of a....... happpy song:D The diaphram raises the lungs inflate and the throat is scrathed by the off key and painted with joy at tune. Tone deaf immersion. Music is life and life is music thus you need both to live.

Thursday, February 10, 2011


It's spring or the threshold of it at least the moment before the desecent. It's similar to being in a dream. Someone played piano today and as they played I wrote the images it intilled in me. A whole underwater palace was waiting for me. I decided to come to a conclusion about this( just cause I could and always do) The person whose fingertips can create whole worlds for people has a talent. Did I tell this person? No. Ummm oh yeah the conclusion. What I mean to get to eventually is. The person doesn't boast of any artistic talent but can paint the ivory. With all the colours of nature