There was a man a wandering soul
Who walked contented alone
Eyes clouded with experience
But grievances, he had none
"For I'm as free as one can be
And calmly I pace my miles.
No horrors on earth anymore to see
And all vain hope beguiled."
When as in myth this man once brace
Walked upon the gorgon's lair,
With fierce eyes, no mask disguised
Her many writhing hair
But he eyes dim held out a hand
And beckoned closer monster fair
And she, for he, at once confused
Took flight and left him there.
And so the man did find a stone
To sit and rest a time
With salted meat and water skin
Then swore h
Do not see too closely,
The garb it hides behind,
For all you know, 'tis mostly
A wretched, holey kind.
And if you seek to grasp it,
(this thing which I have woven),
Even the strength of mindful men,
Will not tear it open.
See now how the colours change,
Here and there new sights appear,
So just sit back for there's no need,
To own it yet, my dear.
Here's one for the history
books
Just don't mention politics
religion
And certainly don't breathe a word of
media
Or anything else of sizeable
influence
Which may or may not allow
your
Poetry to be misinterpreted by
thoughts
Of context in the future.
Move along now, surely there's nothing to
see?
Love is the sweetest addiction,
At the end you get what you deserve,
A lies still a lie by omission,
Its a bullet you dont want to swerve.
And the smell and the taste that lie hot on my senses,
Well theres no other drug that comes close
And Ill break down my walls and smash all my pretences
But its still just your love that I crave the most
Its the most bitter nectar, its the cleanest of smoke
And it eats you alive piece by piece
And youre so consumed by the words that they spoke
That youre screaming inside for release
And I smile and I wait to come down from the high
't
There was a man a wandering soul
Who walked contented alone
Eyes clouded with experience
But grievances, he had none
"For I'm as free as one can be
And calmly I pace my miles.
No horrors on earth anymore to see
And all vain hope beguiled."
When as in myth this man once brace
Walked upon the gorgon's lair,
With fierce eyes, no mask disguised
Her many writhing hair
But he eyes dim held out a hand
And beckoned closer monster fair
And she, for he, at once confused
Took flight and left him there.
And so the man did find a stone
To sit and rest a time
With salted meat and water skin
Then swore h
Do not see too closely,
The garb it hides behind,
For all you know, 'tis mostly
A wretched, holey kind.
And if you seek to grasp it,
(this thing which I have woven),
Even the strength of mindful men,
Will not tear it open.
See now how the colours change,
Here and there new sights appear,
So just sit back for there's no need,
To own it yet, my dear.
Here's one for the history
books
Just don't mention politics
religion
And certainly don't breathe a word of
media
Or anything else of sizeable
influence
Which may or may not allow
your
Poetry to be misinterpreted by
thoughts
Of context in the future.
Move along now, surely there's nothing to
see?
After the day has come and gone,
And all I did was age
After the last of the sun has shone,
Once more my mind is caged…
A block of ice has no emotion –
A life void – of any love,
Never caring about devotion,
Despair fits – just like a glove.
The shadows shy away from me!
Others bare their inner souls,
Yet I – I merely see to see!
You are only who you are.
I don't need much of anything,
I just remember to breathe –
Forget – just what emotion can bring…
But suddenly – so swiftly!
I'm not who I used to be…
You say you remember my childhood well
Guess what? I do too
Without the smog of 'What could have been'
clouding fake memories. Incorrect.
I didn't care about any of that, still don't.
Even though I now have ropes on the back of my hands
I could strangle with, you're Judas really aren't you?
Betrayer, tinker, tailor...
I remember eyes tight shut, wishing, praying for it to stop.
What does it matter now?
Free as a bird...as a bird in a cage. Trapped by memories
Some never fail to amuse
I'm older now, stronger, wiser
I look in the mirror and shudder
guess who's face I see, reflected in my own?
Fear never leaves
Just rears its hea
I forgot how to speak. Her tongue,
weak as a newborn lamb, struggled under the
syllables, the consonants, the vowels, for me.
I wanted to tell her so many things, but each time,
I opened my mouth to confess, I could not.
I formed the letters with her, aping as much as I prayed,
hoping for the next time, the next heartbeat,
I could tell her, I was dying to tell her, everything.
In the beginning I recited the best. I waxed,
I waned, I was the perfect liar.
Everything could be
explained. Doubts were for fickle, insecure
plebeians. I was emperor, king on high,
of her lies. I lied, until even I, began
to believe it. And w
We walk together,
Silent.
There is no need for words,
Not here.
Butterflies land on yellow spring flowers,
Dancing away as we near.
Who has tread this path before us,
I wonder.
Old and wild,
This path has been left behind.
We know its secrets,
But as to who has walked we are blind.
Shadows race before us and at our heels,
Phantoms of what we are and what we have been.
Lupine smiles and god-aware eyes,
One that sees darkness and the other for lies.
A spectral flash of white purged with silver,
And one burden of blood to fall on the sacrifice's shoulder.
Untamed and carrying such responsibility,
We let them room free to d
Current Residence: England Favourite genre of music: Soft Rock Favourite photographer: Monty Sloan Operating System: Windows Vista MP3 player of choice: iPod Shuffle Favourite cartoon character: Iron Man Personal Quote: I keep meaning to actually sit down and do some writing...but life keeps getting in the way
Favourite Visual Artist
Michael Whelan
Favourite Movies
Mrs Dalloway
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Sugarland, Meatloaf, Tina Turner, Natalie Imbruglia, etc
I guess since I never update these blogs anymore, I should at least leave up something to do with my main project.
Inspired Quill, (or 'I.Q' for short – snazzy huh?) is a review and resource based literature website which endeavours to be accessible to anyone. We update every Monday, Wednesday and Friday!
We aim to be a platform for budding young writers and critics, allowing them to get their voices heard by an online community that cares about books and other forms of literature. We also wish to become a place where older, more experienced writers can also either re-establish themselves, or simply utilise this website to help and adv
Stolen from Saki, mostly because I've never seen this one before.
Ten Things I Wish I Could Say to People:
1. "Stop trying to live your life through me."
2. "I might still love you, but I don't respect you and I certainly don't like you."
3. "This isn't working. We both know this isn't working, so it needs to stop."
4. "I don't give a shit about your petty 'woe is me' moments. Find someone else to listen to you."
5. "You're a self rightious ass who doesn't live in the real world."
6. "Grow up and stop acting like an absolute child."
7. "Whatever happens, you will always have me. Always."
8. "You get that I like you, right? Even thoug
The title says it all, really.
At the moment, Booktin is a website that concentrates on book reviews, and articles written by independant authors and other writers. Obviously, each piece is fully attributed to whoever writes it. As Booktin grows, the experience you will gain by writing for the site will hold more weight, and the networking you accomplish whilst working for Booktin will also be of an added benefit.
Booktin is going through somewhat of a revamp at the moment. We need some enthusiastic writers to boost up content so that in the near future, we can add things such as a forum to give the site more of a community feel, rather tha