I sit alone
comfortable in silence
surrounded by time
eyes follow closed lines
a breath remains
outlined by a kiss
stained on glass
no longer in solitude
but in the noise of memories
your song your voice
your words
tell me again
forever stop the silence
Thursday, 25 June 2009
Friday feelings
The pink sky soothes
the darkness rumbles
in the distance
the rain washes
dark pavements
the summer smells
of hot rain
it cleanses my mind
washing away
thirty seven hours
ready for the next
Is there someone at the door?
She reads back and she cries. She thinks back to a time and she cries. Tears filled with pain and loss, tears full of hurt.
His voice had once saved her. Tonight, his voice changed, it was different and one that reflected a past.
His past.
She can’t hear him, she can’t understand. Words are just letters, combined and strung together in a pattern with a sound, but they don’t flow, there is no sense.
She is scared. She can hear the devil knocking on his door; she fears the threshold has been broken and that he is running through his veins. Laughing.
A few words and then silence. A sigh, and then a repeat. She wants to say goodbye, tears sting her cheeks. He doesn’t know; he can’t hear her soft sobbing, her short breaths and long pause.
The threat of anger stills her, the calm before the storm, patiently, she waits.
She wants to be strong, she tries to be brave and tell him how much his backward step hurts. A promise once made, she wants to believe, she has to believe.
Where is her friend? Where is her lover? Where is her promise of a changed life?
She wants to be proud. She wants to be happy and certain the past has a closed door.
She waits for an embrace, a kiss, a reassurance
She waits to be brought back to life.
His voice had once saved her. Tonight, his voice changed, it was different and one that reflected a past.
His past.
She can’t hear him, she can’t understand. Words are just letters, combined and strung together in a pattern with a sound, but they don’t flow, there is no sense.
She is scared. She can hear the devil knocking on his door; she fears the threshold has been broken and that he is running through his veins. Laughing.
A few words and then silence. A sigh, and then a repeat. She wants to say goodbye, tears sting her cheeks. He doesn’t know; he can’t hear her soft sobbing, her short breaths and long pause.
The threat of anger stills her, the calm before the storm, patiently, she waits.
She wants to be strong, she tries to be brave and tell him how much his backward step hurts. A promise once made, she wants to believe, she has to believe.
Where is her friend? Where is her lover? Where is her promise of a changed life?
She wants to be proud. She wants to be happy and certain the past has a closed door.
She waits for an embrace, a kiss, a reassurance
She waits to be brought back to life.
Monday, 1 June 2009
Corners of my home
Whilst taking photos of the many clothes thatI have turned out of my wardrobe to sell on ebay, I got a little camera happy and took some pictures of my favourite things - that make my little victorian terraced house my perfect little den.
My rubber plant is called Dave and he lives in a giant tea cup 
My new dress which is so pretty I can't bear to put it in the wardrobe
My rubber plant is called Dave and he lives in a giant tea cup I am pig obessive. This is Gertrude, she is my fattest pig but by far the cutest.
A corner of my new kitchen with my new tea cosy, handmade by a WI group on the Isle of Wight. My mum knew that I would love it. She was right! Once my perfect kitchen is finished I will share, all I need to find is some vintage jugs, teapots and pretty saucers for my shelves.
Thursday, 28 May 2009
It is all your fault!
Where is my time going? Where are my days, evenings and weekends running away to?
I desperately want a couple more hours in the day in order to tick a few more things off my daily lists. Part of the reason for my loss on the grip of time is THIS! The Internet; social media and networking sites which clog up my day. With so many talented writers and interesting posts, I have a constant urge to keep reading and discovering what is out there.
When I get to work on a morning, or when I get home and switch on my bubblegum pink Dell, my sequence is the same: Check hotmail, check facebook, check twitter, read latest posts on the blogs I have linked to, read posts that others link to. All of this can easily lose me an hour and then I go back to the start because someone may have emailed me, poked me, tweeted me or made a comment.
Also not helping my increasing addiction is the amount of social media marketing that I am now doing at work. I have set up facebook and twitter pages for our company and some of the projects to raise the profile of our brands and to pick up some work. It works and I can easily spend a day searching out profiles to follow, searching tweets to respond to subtlety promoting websites and the business. But where I get lost is in the amount of information available - so many links to blog posts and website telling you how to 'increase your number of followers' , 'analyse your twitter page', 'social marketing for small businesses'. It goes on and on and it is all so useful for me but where is my time to read and then action.
At the crux of it all is not only my time but when, where and how much to say across all these sites. There has been a few discussions on Emily's blog here and on Caroline's regarding anonymity and how personal blogs are. As discussed on Every Day I Lie A Little and Follow the Yellow Brick Road, many writers have their personal blogs or diaries and then other sites where they are able to express themselves through characters and creative writing. I can only tell it how it is and that can prove a challenge when I am marketing a business, promoting myself as a marketeer, attempting to write and explore my creativity and then just being me.
By the time I have read through all the posts and blogs, chuckled at some tweets, looked at photos from someones weekend, I am too tired to comment and therefore, none of the above is working because, as people keep stating, it is all about interacting with your audience.
Hello Audience!
I desperately want a couple more hours in the day in order to tick a few more things off my daily lists. Part of the reason for my loss on the grip of time is THIS! The Internet; social media and networking sites which clog up my day. With so many talented writers and interesting posts, I have a constant urge to keep reading and discovering what is out there.
When I get to work on a morning, or when I get home and switch on my bubblegum pink Dell, my sequence is the same: Check hotmail, check facebook, check twitter, read latest posts on the blogs I have linked to, read posts that others link to. All of this can easily lose me an hour and then I go back to the start because someone may have emailed me, poked me, tweeted me or made a comment.
Also not helping my increasing addiction is the amount of social media marketing that I am now doing at work. I have set up facebook and twitter pages for our company and some of the projects to raise the profile of our brands and to pick up some work. It works and I can easily spend a day searching out profiles to follow, searching tweets to respond to subtlety promoting websites and the business. But where I get lost is in the amount of information available - so many links to blog posts and website telling you how to 'increase your number of followers' , 'analyse your twitter page', 'social marketing for small businesses'. It goes on and on and it is all so useful for me but where is my time to read and then action.
At the crux of it all is not only my time but when, where and how much to say across all these sites. There has been a few discussions on Emily's blog here and on Caroline's regarding anonymity and how personal blogs are. As discussed on Every Day I Lie A Little and Follow the Yellow Brick Road, many writers have their personal blogs or diaries and then other sites where they are able to express themselves through characters and creative writing. I can only tell it how it is and that can prove a challenge when I am marketing a business, promoting myself as a marketeer, attempting to write and explore my creativity and then just being me.
By the time I have read through all the posts and blogs, chuckled at some tweets, looked at photos from someones weekend, I am too tired to comment and therefore, none of the above is working because, as people keep stating, it is all about interacting with your audience.
Hello Audience!
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
Lullaby Love
I watch your gaze and your smile lighten,
I trace your fingertips over hidden lines
you fought the ocean and sailed on through,
burying your soul deep against tides
the gesture of love and the promise of stars
a story etched under salty streams,
the ending the start of a happy beginning
a change in tone complements a lighter shade: soft to touch, gentle to feel.
the song is whispered as a gentle breeze, embracing my fear with a lullaby
slow to sleep but rest I will
comfort no longer sought from the dancing flowers
or in the silence of loneliness
now I can close my eyes with no worry to the past or fear to the coming
my eyes fade with the vision of you but my smile remains
as my reality pulls me close
butterflies dance across my back,
heat stirs beneath my skin,
my lust sweats but my enduring love prevails
I trace your fingertips over hidden lines
you fought the ocean and sailed on through,
burying your soul deep against tides
the gesture of love and the promise of stars
a story etched under salty streams,
the ending the start of a happy beginning
a change in tone complements a lighter shade: soft to touch, gentle to feel.
the song is whispered as a gentle breeze, embracing my fear with a lullaby
slow to sleep but rest I will
comfort no longer sought from the dancing flowers
or in the silence of loneliness
now I can close my eyes with no worry to the past or fear to the coming
my eyes fade with the vision of you but my smile remains
as my reality pulls me close
butterflies dance across my back,
heat stirs beneath my skin,
my lust sweats but my enduring love prevails
Friday, 1 May 2009
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