Forging ahead with fictional endeavours: ~ Write a life on a page and hurry not to its grave; abhor not the coming age, for eternal is the next page. ~ Read what you will, I hope you will enjoy reading as much as I do writing.

Posts tagged ‘poem’


butterflyFor the one’s passed on

And the one’s still here

May the tears we shed

Illustrate the bond we shared

Lasting long beyond our



Art is a very honest medium. Good poetry, painting ect. They all reflect emotion, whether its something we feel while creating it or something we feel because of how we’ve created it.  Most have a story behind them, though we are not always aware of them. The story behind this one is simple – the first anniversary of my cousin’s passing has just gone by.  This one is not just for him but for the family who miss him.

On a completely unrelated note, this is my 201st post on this blog. Wow.


Rush ahead, pride unyielding,

into darkness unforgiving

stumbling , reeling

path unseen



Walls rough, winding.

Wide. Narrow. Wide.

Collapsing. Confining.


Dust, debris, decay.


peels, strips,

falls away.

Fear overwhelming.


Deepest fear,

darkest light.

Flicker hope

burning bright.



Aids sole price:



So I’ve had this sitting in a notebook for a little while. It’s been rewritten a few times. I’m still feeling that it could be improved.  But I’ve gotten to the point where I’m just adding instead of improving.

In other news I’m starting a placement for Social Work.  My father’s response: It would be better if they were paying you.  I had to hold back a palm face right there. I’m marked on the placement. I get credits towards my degree AND work experience in my new career area.  So What if I’m living on benefits – having a full-time job guarantee when out the window with brain surgery.  I’ll be lucky if i can manage 6 hours a day 5 days a week for 18 weeks. Let alone take on a full-time job.


Look: Poetry!


Dash through the tempest

Ride the hurricane

Life entwined with chaos

Order down the drain


Chancing Fate

Born to Prophecy.

Brushed by Fates.

Burdened, Blinkered,

Bridling Destiny.

Birthing chance.

Blood boiling.

Battle rage.

Fate and Chance

Flirtatious smirks.

Snatching, Clawing,

Stretching, snapping.

Shredding golden threads.




Chance and Fate,

Turn a page.

Tussle? Tango?

Only they know.



I’m on school holidays!!!! Wooo!  As of the 25th I submitted my last assessment piece for summer ‘se’mester. On the 29th I start ‘se’mester 1 for 2016.  No real break and they really should give up and call them trimesters.  I haven’t posted anything creative this year, so this is me blowing of steam and killing a second bird with the same stone.  I wonder what these two little pieces of poetry same about my state of mind at them moment. 😀

Off to either write or too start scheduling releases of old news articles. Dunno which yet! 🙂

The white rose

Another trip into a morbid mind. But when I saw this photo prompt provided by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (original source of image is I couldn’t get past all the… red!


Graceful twirls caught the eye; leaping, pirouetting across the ice. Sweet fragrances further to further entice. Ruby leotard, coral blush, and a sweet conceit of tone to bring trophies home.

Upon her doorstep a scarlet Rose.

Sweet scent, finger prick.

Coppery taste of blood.


Taken into the dark.

Amongst Geraniums, Cardinals, in still repose.

Raven hair,

crimson lips,

sanguine streaks on pale…



Upon the glass the Dark Prince bestows

a single white Rose.

A bit a poetry.

Riples meet; coverge.
Tides turn,
Seasons shift,
Dawn greets dusk.

Spider’s web of paths,

Of certainties
And death
are but a few.

Precious commidies
And Happiness,
Must be take by the Hand.

Live now,
Yesterday’s etheral prescence whispers
Tomorrow may be a broken promise.

Ordinary ties


A short poem for Visdare.

One little elephant

Ran while his clan


Instinct sought safety,

New home,

And family ties.

Rare human kindness.

Years without fear.

In search of new means.

change the tools

Writing in a vacuum

I write fiction, yet constant procrastination causes contradiction.

It’s become a right addiction but friction causes dereliction.

No definable progress is stressful,

Never knowing if depiction is successful

Blogging cures the constrictive affliction that limits my diction.




Makes three hours out of one.

Progress hampered.


Start again

The writer wrote. Wrote, wrote, wrote some more. Type; edit. A few changes. A few more. The novel got no closer to complete. No matter what was written, the prose seemed incomplete. Her judgement critical; no longer unbiased, bogged down by eternal reconstruction. No progress could be made.

With a kick in the pants, a decision was made. She would start smaller, and see where the results took her.

old dog

Blogging 101

Blogging for beginners

Logged enough practice

Of experience I have plenty


Good enough?

I still can learn

New tips and tricks

Gall to believe I’m better?

1 way to learn

0 – reasons not too.

1 way to find out.


I don’t often use prompts from Writing 201, but when I do I go to town with it. 🙂  An (Almost) Double Acrostic featuring as much internal rhyme as I could manage.

‘Murder?’ She wrote. ‘Not Guilty’ she voteD

Innocence is real, feel I

Senseless; victim defencelesS

Truth trapped by deceiT

Ruthless lawyer, truth destroyeR

Unstable, unable; defenceless yoU

Sadly now, despair allowS

Truth to surrender; impaired by a cheaT

Haiku in Japanese.

I’ve written this with the help of google translate so if it’s wrong, Oh well! The only phrase I could write is sora no tori. The words I recognise are Sora, Tori, and mugen. I recognise the particles no, ni and de but would not be confident in the usage.  This is my way of trying to learn the language in a format that plays to my language memorisation skills. Auditory learning doesn’t work well for me and now I know I have cognitive deficit in the speech memory center.

Sora no tori

Ao de jiyuu ni tobu

Mugen no sora

direct translation

Bird in the sky

Fly free in blue

Endless skies.


I’m taking a poetry day; for me that is literally a day off from fiction while still writing. Following you will find some experiments with the haiku format. Personally, I don’t feel haikus lend well to the english language. Japanese syllables tend to be short, clipped and distinct as a rule where as English is littered with elongated vowels and soft consonants. As a result the tightness of the haiku form is lost. But here we go.

Leaves on the water,

gently floating on ripples,

sink into darkness.

Trees sleep; winter waits.

Spring and summer flaunt passion.

Autumn falls silent.

Our time is a gift.

We should live it to the full.

Appreciate it.

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