Rivers Of Consciousness

Don't worry, be happy. Who knows what may happen?

Summer Daydream

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Postcard Perfect

After a stressful few weeks of Uni, the sun decided to come out and play, and so three of us paid a visit to a local beach. We ignored the biting wind and pretended it was summer again, the weather teasing us. My poor camera had been neglected recently, so it was great to get back behind the lens (and a little in front of it, too!). These are a small selection of photo’s from that day.

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Reflection

5

A New Friend

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Pastel Sky

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Sunset Over Wembury Beach

Feb 13

All images are my own, please do not reproduce without permission.

Shielded From Snow

SnowCouple5

In a city tunnel, shielded from snow
Your lips sealed the terms, so now you are mine.
I am never going to let you go.

Your nervous laugh, shy smile, they let me know
That fear will not crush. Yeah, we’ll be just fine
In that city tunnel, shielded from snow.

Your roots anchor me, so now we can grow
United, unbroken, fingers entwined.
I am never going to let you go.

My chilled bones accept your welcoming glow,
My winter’s frost shattered by eyes that shine
In a city tunnel, shielded from snow.

Sincere expressions, it’s not just for show
You now break the boundaries I designed,
So I’m never going to let you go.

The bear’s courage, gentle grace of the doe –
Steady hands guiding me through troubled times,
In a city tunnel, shielded from snow.
I am never going to let you go.

 

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A villanelle from December which I submitted for assessment, I’m pleased with the result I got 🙂

Image source:
[http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll165/TheHomelessPoet/Love%20Pictures/SnowCouple5.jpg]

Appreciation

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I’m not a particularly sentimental person, or a huge fan of expressing my emotions in respects of my partner – I’ve never been one to flood Facebook with intense and frequent outpourings of devotion. But I think maybe once in a while is acceptable, so…

Today I am grateful for Jake, and I want the world to know that. Seeing as I can’t stand on the roof and yell it, posting it here will have to suffice. I have a lot to be grateful for. He keeps me sane, even though often he is the cause for my insanity 😛 He is my anchor, keeping my head out of the clouds and on a level. He has the best sense of humour, and always knows how to make me smile, even when I feel like shouting or crying or running. We’ve been through hard times and dragged each other through them, and we’ve kicked back and sailed through the good times with Bob Marley and a cold cider. We play and joke like children and argue like an old married couple. We have so many in-jokes we can’t even remember them all. We go for meals and movies, we have the hearts and candles and flowers and teddies, but we also have the assassin films, Sims 3, play fights, pillow fights, the yelling at the Xbox when some bastard shoots us AGAIN, the debates over which Avenger is best, and of course, stealing bites of each other’s food (well, Jake stealing mine…). He can read me like a book, and I him. He knows my worst fears and my greatest dreams. We compare and consider what the first things to buy would be, if either of us won the lottery (Jake would buy a KFC bucket, of course) and whether we would even tell anybody. No-one else rolls their eyes quite like Jake does when I throw the millionth outfit on to the bed in a fit of I-hate-all-my-clothes. I trust him with my life. He turns into a 5year old child when he’s had one too many, or when it’s Christmas, or when he’s just generally excited at anything. His enthusiasm for life can brighten anyone’s day. He’s protective but not stifling, concerned but not controlling. He fits into my family as if they have known no different, and his family have welcomed me with open arms. He drives me so far round the bend I could reach to slap his ass and sometimes I have no idea what nonsense he is talking. But I wouldn’t change a thing, not in the slightest. Read more…

Keep Out

Blogger Sethsnap often posts photographic story prompts, where followers are invited to take an image he has taken as inspiration for a story/poem/creative writing outlet. I often read the contributions but have never taken part myself, until now. It was a fun little exercise which I recommend, whether you want to break Writers’ Block or have fun trying your hand at something creative.

The original post: http://sethsnap.com/2013/01/28/your-storykeep-out/

Image

Crestfallen, she ran her hand through the unruly halo of hair that tumbles down her back. It wasn’t there before, honest Teddy. Hopping from foot to foot, she chewed her bottom lip indecisively. ‘KEEP OUT’. The words taunted her from a foot above her head. She hugged Teddy to her chest, pulling the scarf wound around her thin neck tighter. ‘PRIVATE PROPERTY’. Glancing around, she sighed. Why? It’s not fair! No-one ever comes here, not anymore. Her coarse boots barely made a sound as she crept forward, the snow muffling her footsteps into a dull, softened padding. She had been down this track a thousand million times, twirling with autumn leaves and singing the springtime bird calls. But now, in the biting wind desolation of winter, her playground was forbidden. The land was no longer anonymous, and this sign built a barrier between her path home and her path to serenity, found in the deep, cave-like knotted undergrowth. Her heart pounded in her chest. She had never broken the rules before, at least not like this. Of course, she had swiped chocolate from the pantry and stayed up past bedtime before, but this was different. Big, scary world kind of different. Temptation snaked into her mind. She had been here every day for a nearly a year, one sign was not going to change that. Full of resolution, she took a step forward.
 
Behind her, a flock of birds screamed into the air suddenly, a cloud of distress fleeing from an unknown disturbance. Startled, she crouched like a tribal hunter, alert, poised and steady. Eyes wide, they scanned the shadows, but though they found nothing, she did not feel at ease. Her chest heaved with nerves, the bellows to the fire of fear. There was no way she was going back home now, not past those trees. She had seen a fox once, evil beady eyes staring at her while his tongue flickered across pointed teeth, and she had screamed, scaring it away. She didn’t want to see one today, not a fox, or, or worse. Facing the track once more, she glanced at the imposing sign with a deep breath, before darting with the agility only a frightened child could possess into her familiar haven. A puff of snow kicked up a wake behind her as she ran, leaving the sign at its watchtower as she disappeared deeper down the track. She didn’t hear the snap of twigs. She didn’t see the sliding shadow gliding from the tree-line to the track. She didn’t see the dark silhouette facing of the entrance to her beloved forest. She only saw her breath rising before her, the twists of the path guiding her further until it turned sharply to the right. She didn’t keep following it. She pushed herself straight on, tearing through the lower branches of skyscraper trees until her den came into view. Trembling, she slipped between the boulder and the tree stump into the dipped den, pressing her stomach to the frosted dirt floor. She leant her forehead on Teddy, praying each punch of her heart didn’t reveal her hiding place. She’d be safe here, right? 

Would you rather…

Image

When relaxing with my housemates yesterday, we embarked on the classic game of ‘Would you rather…’ to pass the time (I think it originated from ‘would you rather have arms for legs or legs for arms?’ – arms for legs of course!) Quickly running out of comparisons, we enlisted the help of one of many websites that generate these binary oppositions and briefly entertained ourselves with debating this or that. Of course, we couldn’t leave it black and white, we had to inject some grey areas of ‘it depends if…’ or ‘do they mean…’ to see if we could find a loophole ourselves.

One example was:

Would you rather…

Never read a book again OR never hear music again?

I decided I would rather never read a book again, on the basis of the loophole that exists – the wonderful world of audio books. But of course, this is not truly satisfactory.

I have pondered over this question more than others we had asked, because I can honestly say I have no idea which would be better, or rather, which would be worse. I mean, think about it from my point of view. I love books. I’m studying a degree in English, for crying out loud. While not every book inspires my life, and I certainly don’t hold some of the ‘Classics’ in as high regard as they receive, there’s still something so attractive about reading a book.

Picture this: it’s a freezing cold day in winter. You can’t feel your hands, and in fact you’ve pretty much convinced yourself that you have frostbite in your fingertips now. Your jeans are damp from the rain you trudged through and the splash by that puddle at the bottom of the garden path you always forget about. The key seems to take an age to find its home in the lock, delaying your return to sanctuary. You practically fall through the door, dropping the stack of paper you had been clutching and the ten-tonne bag on to the floor, entering your domain in a far from graceful manner. A sigh. Scooping everything back up, you make it to your bedroom and drop everything on the desk, rubbing your hands and seeking the warmth of your radiator. A trip to the kitchen for that much-needed cup of tea, slightly sweeter than normal, and returning to the bedroom. You change out of your clinging wet clothes and throw on those old fluffy pyjamas you probably should’ve thrown out years ago. The steam from the tea warms your face as you tentatively take a sip, careful not to scold your cold chapped lips. Perched on the end of your bed, you pick up the book you’ve been dying to read, flicking the pages with your thumb like a flip book. Unconsciously leaning back against your pillows, you open the cover. The traces of set jaw and frown fade the stress of your day away, and you visibly relax. The marching procession of curves, lines and dots parade the page, hooking a lasso around your mind and tugging you in. That’s it, you’re found.

You’re found in a world only you can build, guided by an unknown entity which presents to you a skeleton, which you alone can flesh out. You meet people you don’t realise you already know, their faces sculpted by the thousand faces you pass each day in the street. You discover which ones you like, relate to, are attracted to – and their opposites. You get sucked in to a whole universe of someone else’s life, following their days and relationships, their emotions. But their emotions are your emotions. You feel tense when they tighten up, worry when it all falls apart, celebrate when they fix it back up, and wonder what will happen next. You might meet their Mum or Dad, a close friend, or fall in love with their perfect match. A perfect match who, coincidentally, just happens to tick all of your own boxes. Perhaps they travel the world, get in a fight, rob a bank, save the day, who knows what could happen in this place. You walk their streets, wear their clothes, say their words, you think their thoughts. The edges are a little blurred now, who starts where?

At some point, you are jolted back to reality, catapulted into Today, landing with a bump into Now. Looking around your room, you find yourself pondering the latest events of the book. What would you do? How’s it all gonna figure out?  Without realising, you’ve shoved your feet into a cocoon in the duvet, you’re led practically in the foetal position and yep, when you go to take another sip you find you’ve finished you’re cup of tea already. An hour has slipped you by. The tasks you were supposed to do are now calling your name fervently, but it doesn’t seem so hard now. Even the sun seems to have repelled the rain for a while. You get up and continue with your evening, but in the back of your mind a little door creaks open, a face peeping out with a ‘pssst!’ beckoning you back into their world.

 

Image source:

[http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jE0YTMIeAlE/TOsgQ8Ut2KI/AAAAAAAAALA/FBMMhwDxc9M/s1600/reading%252Bin%252Bbed.jpg]

Together Again

old couple

I smile at you now as I always have,
cheeks pinched by nature’s fingernails.
Your eyes don’t see me well anymore,
but somehow, somehow you know I’m still there.
My lungs’ vapour squeezes through my parted lips,
spinning fluidly into an arabesque and then,
gone.
Invisible to the eye, yet mingled with the oxygen
pumped to you by life-saving devices that have never lived.

I am haloed by an amber glow.
It’s a warm palette against my iced skin,
tinting me the shades of the old oak tree by the river,
when it would erupt a last-ditch attempt at radiance
with blazed leaves, fading out with a flourish
to reveal the charcoal skeleton beneath.
Your frail fingers caress my face, knuckles bulbous
like the gnarled branches from that winter walk.

Our children are talking, chattering, babbling;
trying to stamp the silences that seep slowly
through you into the room’s monotony.
They know, though they will never say.
They see me too, clasped in your hand, obscured by your tag.
Sympathetic smiles and a bittersweet kiss signal the goodbye,
tears gathered in the hollows of a throat, choking them and you.
Don’t cry darling, it won’t be long now.

One click, as resonant as a gunshot and yet,
more dignified.
My arms are open wide: I’ve waited a decade for you.

 

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Part of the collection I’m submitting for assessment.

Image source:
[http://mw2.google.com/mw-panoramio/photos/medium/5911072.jpg]
Edited by me.

Sticky Feet

 

 

 

Taken in 2010 on a family holiday to Spain, of a little grasshopper (maybe a cricket?) resting inside a Hibiscus.

Image is my own.

Someday


There’s softly whispered rain on blanket grey,
And hinted forgiveness which you must try.
I told you I’ll be back for you someday.

Hold tight your hands and bow your head to pray.
When your eyes open you will see blue sky,
Not softly whispered rain on blanket grey.

Do not forget and so do not delay.
Who said sinners can only speak a lie?
I told you I’ll be back for you someday.

Don’t let your head give in or heart betray.
The wise worship sunlight but won’t deny
the softly whispered rain on blanket grey.

Finer flowers have fallen to decay,
the bittersweet memory of last July,
I told you I’ll be back for you someday.

You don’t believe me, as much as you say,
Turning cheeks again from your blinded eye.
In softly whispered rain on blanket grey,
I promised I’ll be back for you some day.

 

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My first ever attempt at a Villanelle.
I’m not sure what to think. Maybe I concentrated too much on the structure and not enough on content.
Was fun to play around with though 😀

 

Image source:
[http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFo8jjLjYYU/S8rQxThTENI/AAAAAAAAAY0/WQXkPHRldCw/s1600/alone-in-rain.jpg]

Waiting by the Water

Winter is here and I’m still waiting there,
Teardrops falling down my face,
Cause I remember when we used to sit
Pleading to mankind.
You wouldn’t have to ask me,
But there is one question.
Is every little thing gonna be alright?
I’m still waiting.

In life I know there’s a lot of grief,
But I am happy inside, all of the time.
And now I’m by the still water,
And you’ll come with your heart and soul.
That’s all I want from you.
To me, it makes a lot of sense, and
you’ll satisfy my soul.

Life is one big road with lots of signs,
But my feet are my only carriage
In the valley of decision.
But who the heck do I think I am?
Let me tell you what I know now:
I know you’re out there somewhere.

 

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A challenge I set myself, inspired by a friend  – creating a poem out of song lyrics.
(See my friend’s piece here , it’s very good)

All of these are Bob Marley song lyrics (some with the Wailers too of course) from the following list, directly taken or adapted for my own purpose.
I’ve included links to Youtube videos of the songs for those who want to jam out 😀

Waiting in Vain
I’m Still Waiting
One Love
Buffalo Soldier
No Woman No Cry
Misty Morning
All in One
Satisfy My Soul
Cry To Me
Punky Reggae Party
Three Little Birds
Want More
Wake Up and Live

I think that’s all the ones I used, apologies if I missed any… enjoy 😀

 

Reflection

Who are you?
Your hair is loose and light while mine is fire,
The vixen’s bushy tail twisted around my waist.
Your face is open, young, pure as cotton,
While mine is wary beneath the war paint.
You sing and twirl and ruffle feathers,
While I stand stern. Unmoved.
Hackles raised.

Your sides are stuffed with luxurious love,
While mine are the keys to Lucifers’ lament,
The taunting lure of others’ temptation.
I am encased in wire and lace,
Satin thread woven to keep me in place.
Their eyes scan my silhouette, lingering,
lustful,
But, respectfully, never for you.

Your features are familiar, but what is your name?
Cherubs envy you, and in turn stab my back.
My podium, my pedestal is too high to grasp,
I’ll fall with a gasp while you can fool in the grass.
I used to contain your childish laugh, but now,
I play prey to salacious hunters of the night,
my heels burning. But you, you are safe;
Life’s wheel turning has not tainted you yet.

I am enemy to my body, as it is to me,
But it remembers being ripe with youth,
it remembers the light hair, deluxe care,
the serene virtue that you have.
We have met before, haven’t we child?
In some far distant land of pasts and promises.
For the closer I look the more it is true,
Your eyes have I, mine too have You.

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Experimental poetry piece for Uni, based on playing with a ‘you’ persona

Image source:
[http://weheartit.com/entry/43346956#]

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