For my physical apearance,
It doesn’t look much.
I’m not one to be envied,
By my own touch.
My head always capped,
By a black paint fleck.
And the tear of an eagle,
Is worn round my neck.
But I’m above the trite,
Of my physical form.
For to call my soul beautiful,
Is to call the sun warm.
A microcosm of life,
Is what flows through my veins.
And only the whispering wind,
Is what holds my reins.
For the secrets that are carried,
Upon the ever dancing zephyrs,
Tell me about all of life,
And that there isn’t anything to fear.
But to prying people’s eyes,
My windy conversations are too strange,
So I shy from most others,
‘Tis the only solution I can arrange.
Talk to me and understand me,
I, the Poet of Gales,
For life is my oxygen,
And people help me inhale.
Posts tagged creative
Do you remember that day last summer
When we walked through the woods
And we watched the thunder
In the back of our neighborhoodsWe saw paper birds fly
As the metal monsters cried
In the tower of tears
That washed away our fearsThere we were salting our bread
And eating our water
In that place where others had fled
That place which makes them shudderBut there in the places
We erased our cardboard faces
Peeled the paint from our cracking hearts
To create an image of fading artI learned a new word today
They spell it L-O-V-E
It’s one I know not how to say
But somehow you feel this way for meNow we sit on the sand
You are holding my hand
But I doubt what is plain to see
I’m losing my sanityThere’s no escape from this now
We’re stuck under the bridge
The water’s rising somehow
And it’s just us behind the ridgeOur throats are dry
But we won’t just sigh
We’ll scream with stolen lungs
And sing with borrowed tonguesWe’ll get out of this I know
Someday it may show
But for now I can only wait
For my long and awaited fate
4th Draft (Updated 15/11/2011)
THE END
November 27th
There is a certain vagueness that surrounds words involving time. When you asked me how long I knew it was over before it ended I said awhile. But how long is awhile? It could be minutes, hours, days or even years.
There is no pinpointing when the feeling began to creep up on me. When I look back I can see fights and feelings that foreshadowed the end but as to the feeling that the end was coming, it was like I woke up one moment and could not remember a time I didn’t feel like we were over.
You asked me why I wanted to end it. I asked you why you didn’t. The silence that followed said more than either of us needed to hear.
That wasn’t it though; it could never end that easily for us. There was yelling, there was crying, there was violence. I still have the scar on my forehead from when you threw the fork at me. A gesture of infantile futility, a feeling I came to know well in our relationship.
I left you crying when I walked out of the door. My eyes were moist too. It was a bitter November night, my tears froze on my cheeks as I walked away.
I did not look back.
November 22nd
You were sat on the couch reading a newspaper; I was in the kitchen smoking a cigarette. It had been a while since we could stand to be in the same room together. I thought back trying to find how we got to this place and like every other time I tried I just couldn’t figure it out.
It seems that as time slipped past us the feelings we shared slowly drained away to be replaced by something worse than hatred for each other. Apathy. I looked at you sitting on the couch and I knew I had no feelings for you anymore. You were just someone in my life.
My lack of feeling for you was like an infection spreading to every part of my body, causing me to go numb. I watched you and continued to think back, trying to figure out where the feelings had gone. The conclusion I eventually came to was that we had gotten it all backwards. All of the intimate moments I could remember sharing with you ended up being about sex. There was a lot of passion and lust in our relationship but was there ever love?
In my hand the cigarette burned to the filter as I watched you, lost in my indifference. It was the smell of burnt skin that drew me back to what was happening. I cursed and dropped what was left of the cigarette in the sink before running my burn under the tap. Pain seared through my hand. There were no painkillers in the house so I looked back at you, my personal anaesthetic.
His body was fluid, like the shapes he saw. He moved smoothly with the music, upwards and forwards, down and back. His eyes constantly following the pulses of the beat, keeping the streaming bars and bursting stars constantly in his vision, he moved where the music led him so he could see it all.
The bars climbed higher, the pulses shone brighter. The music rose and fell and then continued to rise higher and higher. He moved up with it as far as he could until it was out of his vision. Then, just when he lost sight of it the sound and the sights reached their peak and as it crashed back down to earth he followed it, listening, seeing, feeling, moving.
The song ended and there was a brief respite as he looked around. He was surrounded by sweaty bodies heaving against sweat soaked bodies of the opposite sex. The next song began and before the pulses overtook his vision he saw the bumps and the grinds and the sways of what was around him.
Before it became too much the music grew louder and the rhythm pounded through his ears and his eyes. Stars burst, lines waved and shapes danced across his vision. The ugliness of the heaving masses was drowned out by his synaesthesia and he lost himself once again in the music.
I didn’t mean to cry
But the tears came
Pushing through these ducts
Like an emotional battalion
I tried, I really did
But I just couldn’t hold them back
And I feel nothing can placate me
Not now
Certainly not when you’re leaving
And the weight of your departure
Is ripping through the left side
Of my chest.
Suspicions lie at the heart
Of the matter—
Bleeding red,
Gummy matter
Sticking on my
Dashboard forehead
(the frontal lobe
is a very scary thing)
Before the heart enters
Stage right, the
Metaphor proceeds the
Liver—like percussion
Instrument(s)
(thump thump thump)
Don’t confuse me!
This isn’t how you
Build an empire
—mockingbird jaybird cries!
The cigarette burns
On both ends—
Blue smoke seeping from
Amoral pores
It’s cold on the waterfront!
And I’m standing, exposed
Bared naked in my
Emotional disambiguation
(I had to look that up)
Broadside strokes, she’s
Crying alone in our
Bathroom again
There’s nothing
I can do
The hummingbirds are
Playing a tune from
Savage hearts. The
Organs are bickering
…hearts
…guts
…appendix
…
STOP
These are some current projects/prompts going on in the community right now. Please remember to use proper tags appropriate to each project for your prose and poetry pieces if you decide to participate in any of these projects, and do not use the tag #twcp.
If you’ve created a project/prompt for the Tumblr writing community and you’ve made sure there’s as much information as possible stated in the post and that there is an appropriate tag, then use the #twcp tag so that we can find your post easily. [Note: if you’ve already published your post and go back to just add the #twcp tag, your post may not show up. You may have to post it again, and not as a reblog. We apologize for Tumblr’s occasional bitchery.]
- Suggested by Lillian at Spilled Ink
- Deadline is November 30
- Appropriate tag: #becomethetree
- Essentially, write a prose or poetry piece personal to you of a time when you had to bare all and be naked to those around you (envision a tree in autumn/winter losing all of its leaves).
- Do not submit links for this project. Pieces will only be reblogged from the above tag.
- Suggested by Bethany at Spilled Ink
- Deadline is November 30
- Appropriate tag: #futureappreciation
- Essentially, write a prose or poetry piece of something in the future that you believe you will be thankful for. Try and keep the pieces personal so really think about what little thing would be special or mean something to you that hasn’t happened yet. [Little things only. No births, marriages, graduations, etcetera.]
- Click here for an example by Lillian and Bethany.
- Do not submit links for this project. Pieces will only be reblogged from the above tag.
- Suggested by Kate
- Deadline is TOMORROW. Spilled Ink will post a few of our favorites throughout the day so you still have plenty of time to post.
- Appropriate tag: #lovesongforkatie
- “I want you to write a love song for me, and Jen, or me AND Jen. Or just me. Or just Jen. Or some other person and tell us you wrote them Just For Us. Because that’s awesome.”
You’re Better Than You Think You Are
- Suggested by Gary
- Apparently this is now closed but I found it on BurningMuse and she gave the wonderful suggestion of still using it as a prompt. So, we at Spilled Ink are now tracking this project and will be reblogging pieces from it. Even if you don’t write anything for it, go explore the tag yourself. There is some amazing poetry and prose there.
- Appropriate tag: #you’rebetterthanyouthinkyouare [don’t forget to include the apostrophe!]
- “Write yourself a compliment. No one knows you better than you. No one knows, better than you, what you absolutely suck at. So it should be the same thing the other way around. The purpose is, well- to be uplifting and shit. To make yourself feel better, and if nothing else- it’s a free pass to be narcissistic, vain and self centered.” [Click here for more details please.]
- Suggested by Noelle
- Appropriate tags: #burningmuse & #vicesandvirtues
- “Simply write about any experience [doesn’t have to be from childhood] that has had a profound [or amusing] effect on your personality/ behavior/ beliefs/ habits/ outlook—especially related to values, strengths, qualities, or flaws that have influenced who you have become.” [Click here for more details please.]
- Suggested by Noelle
- Appropriate tags: #burningmuse & #shadowsonthecavewall
- “Write a piece about seeing the world [a person, place, or thing] from a different perspective. Examples would be: A personal experience, conversation, a news story that blew your mind, writing fiction from the point of view you would not usually express.” [Click here for more details please.]
Questions, comments, corrections to any of the above projects, etcetera etcetera, should be sent here. Feel free to reblog this post (you can condense it so it’s not so very long) so that we can get as much participation for these projects/prompts as possible!
-Spilled Ink Mods
(Note: You could even reblog this and save it to your drafts, instead of publishing it, so that you have it handy for some writing ideas when/if you get stuck one night.)
These are some current projects/prompts going on in the community right now. Please remember to use proper tags appropriate to each project for your prose and poetry pieces if you decide to participate in any of these projects, and do not use the tag #twcp.
If you’ve created a project/prompt for the Tumblr writing community and you’ve made sure there’s as much information as possible stated in the post and that there is an appropriate tag, then use the #twcp tag so that we can find your post easily. [Note: if you’ve already published your post and go back to just add the #twcp tag, your post may not show up. You may have to post it again, and not as a reblog. We apologize for Tumblr’s occasional bitchery.]
- Suggested by Lillian at Spilled Ink
- Deadline is November 31
- Appropriate tag: #becomethetree
- Essentially, write a prose or poetry piece personal to you of a time when you had to bare all and be naked to those around you (envision a tree in autumn/winter losing all of its leaves).
- Do not submit links for this project. Pieces will only be reblogged from the above tag.
- Suggested by Bethany at Spilled Ink
- Deadline is November 31
- Appropriate tag: #futureappreciation
- Essentially, write a prose or poetry piece of something in the future that you believe you will be thankful for. Try and keep the pieces personal so really think about what little thing would be special or mean something to you that hasn’t happened yet. [Little things only. No births, marriages, graduations, etcetera.]
- Click here for an example by Lillian and Bethany.
- Do not submit links for this project. Pieces will only be reblogged from the above tag.
- Suggested by Kate
- Deadline is TOMORROW. Spilled Ink will post a few of our favorites throughout the day so you still have plenty of time to post.
- Appropriate tag: #lovesongforkatie
- “I want you to write a love song for me, and Jen, or me AND Jen. Or just me. Or just Jen. Or some other person and tell us you wrote them Just For Us. Because that’s awesome.”
You’re Better Than You Think You Are
- Suggested by Gary
- Apparently this is now closed but I found it on BurningMuse and she gave the wonderful suggestion of still using it as a prompt. So, we at Spilled Ink are now tracking this project and will be reblogging pieces from it. Even if you don’t write anything for it, go explore the tag yourself. There is some amazing poetry and prose there.
- Appropriate tag: #you’rebetterthanyouthinkyouare [don’t forget to include the apostrophe!]
- “Write yourself a compliment. No one knows you better than you. No one knows, better than you, what you absolutely suck at. So it should be the same thing the other way around. The purpose is, well- to be uplifting and shit. To make yourself feel better, and if nothing else- it’s a free pass to be narcissistic, vain and self centered.” [Click here for more details please.]
- Suggested by Noelle
- Appropriate tags: #burningmuse & #vicesandvirtues
- “Simply write about any experience [doesn’t have to be from childhood] that has had a profound [or amusing] effect on your personality/ behavior/ beliefs/ habits/ outlook—especially related to values, strengths, qualities, or flaws that have influenced who you have become.” [Click here for more details please.]
- Suggested by Noelle
- Appropriate tags: #burningmuse & #shadowsonthecavewall
- “Write a piece about seeing the world [a person, place, or thing] from a different perspective. Examples would be: A personal experience, conversation, a news story that blew your mind, writing fiction from the point of view you would not usually express.” [Click here for more details please.]
Questions, comments, corrections to any of the above projects, etcetera etcetera, should be sent here. Feel free to reblog this post (you can condense it so it’s not so very long) so that we can get as much participation for these projects/prompts as possible!
-Spilled Ink Mods
(Note: You could even reblog this and save it to your drafts, instead of publishing it, so that you have it handy for some writing ideas when/if you get stuck one night.)
A man walked alone on Saturday,
While the wind whipped and sky grew dim,
The leaves dropped in the frigid air,
This land didn’t want anyone there,
And that man still tread on that sullen ground.He walked with a strained limp,
Like one fighting to muster will to move,
And with pained with life itself,
Determined to go on with his trek,
He pressed on over that cold ground.The dark clouds marked a trail in the sky,
One which lead everywhere,
He followed that path of aimlessness,
Determined to seek its end,
For he had no ties to anywhere else.The sound of silence was broken,
By the cracking of acorns under his feet,
They gave small gasps for their own life,
Cursing the wanderer and his heavy step,
They were they only ones to address him that day.An icy gale slapped him across the face,
And his eyes closed to keep out the gale,
But from the corners of eyes on that shivering face,
Two small tears leaked out and dried,
For the wind cut into his bleeding spirit.A man walked along on Saturday,
While the rest of the world went on its way,
That day which all join in happy plans,
A lone man wandered a cold land,
Looking for what all take for granted.
There are many ways to celebrate it
usually
but this year I’m going to spend it all aloneWith a drink in my right hand,
a silent phone in my left
and a mind full of explanations
that don’t make any senseI will blow out the candles
and sing Happy Birthday to myself
and I think I’ll throw in a verse of Fuck You
just for good measureOk, so I’m a bit angry
and I’ve half a mind to say things
that would make a sailor blush
but no one wants to hear thatSo good luck with your new friends
and your new life without me
while I sing Happy Birthday to myself
and wish away your freedom
