Living on the Edge

Life's steepest surfaces,

Rise from the murky depths,

Build

Slowly

To form impenetrable walls.

Look to me,

As I reach for the blue sky,

And brave these cliffs,

Unfolding before us.

As graceful as a primate,

Fingers nimble,

Over sharp rocks.

I look to you,

While ascending.

Follow me.

Submitted to One Stop Poetry's One Shot Wednesday - week 29 

Snapshots of Home (A Photopoetry Montage)

So I've been taking quite a few photography walks round the countryside near my house recently, having never really explored it since moving here a few years ago.  It inspired this photo-poetry montage below, based on the experiences and emotions it all conjured up!

  Daylight fades over the peaceful countryside

 

Creeping over the horizon's sanctuary

 

 The glow of sunset fades over us,

  

As the light shatters on the glistening fields,

  

Standing side by side,

   

We search forward for an adventure,

  Crossing bridges towards darkness,

  

The scenery starts to turn to grey,

  As the storm clouds roll in,

  Nature's limbs trembling with the growing storm,

  Idyllic green twists to rusted industrial,

 

As the stormy winds build up to darkness,

 

And we run for shelter from the rain.

Standing at the Feet of Giants

Inspired by the picture prompt by Katherine Forbes for One Stop Poetry's One Shoot Sunday.

The world around us,
So strange and fearful.
Swirly green forests,
Filled with fushia blooms.
Wandering aimless,
Through the soil path.
Searching for a way home.

Accidental happening,
Brought us to here.
A mistaken wish,
On a fresh summer's eve.
Wicked old witch,
Flew in from the west.
Suddenly we were gone.

Forest glade clearing now,
Sunset flooding the skies.
A dirty shanty town ahead,
The size being far too big.
Reach for you hand,
And pull you close.
What strange a place is this?

Dusty waves cross the paths,
As we head towards a door.
Deep fear creeping in,
Building inside out hearts.
Rumbling footsteps,
Shatter the silent scene.
Suddenly the giants appear.

Eyeing us with predator's gaze,
Whispering with intent.
I reach for you,
And pull you close.
For a final kiss,
With all my love.
Fearful that this is the end.

The Amusingly Shameful Walk Home

Oh how I wish this wasn't based on experience =)  Although as part of my New Year health kick I've vowed to drink less and exercise more.  Both are doing very well... although I note it's only January 11th!  However nothing really beats being able to walk home with a bit more grace and sophistication than usual so I'm hoping to keep this one going.  Have written the following to remind myself that this is a very good thing.  Anyway, I hope your resolutions are going well too - what did you resolve for 2011, if anything??

CJ x

In the dead of night.

The clacker of the cobbles

Against my stiletto heels,

Shatters the silence,

Filling it with echoes,

Like a ghostly horse's tap dance.

Bubbles tickle my cold nose,

As a tipsy hiccup surfaces,

With the grace of a drunken goat,

I stumble with a scrape,

Catching my tumble,

Before it has the chance to happen.

Creeping smile spreads out,

Across my rosy, amused cheeks,

At the hilarity of it all,

Unthinkable unbalancing,

And a swagger like a thug,

Wearing challenging skyscraper shoes.

Unbearable hunger surfaces,

Like a demon with unstoppable venom,

Fixed focus now on a single goal,

And not one for the diet,

As I change the route,

And head off towards the Saturday sin-cabin...

Fried stuff.

Fail.

Submitted to One Stop Poetry's One Shot Wednesday

A Countryside Stroll

The following poem was inspired by the beautiful picture prompt at One Shoot Sunday by Kevin “KJ” Halliday.  

Dream-like illusions,
Flood my waking thoughts,
As we stroll along the sunset path,
Towards the medieval church,
Watching the light fade to red,
Her hazel eyes so alive.

Dull creep of aching muscles,
Curls from my toes to my thighs,
As my legs recall the country lanes,
But feeling on top of the world.
Endorphins flow between us,
In awe of the luminous world.

Like a time capsule, frozen,
The little sleepy village silently observes,
As we wander along hand in hand.
A smile creeps across my cold face,
As the isolation seems to soothe,
And build intensity in her touch.

Her beautiful blonde hair fluttering,
Like a thousand butterflies around her,
Framing those beautiful, soulful eyes,
A perfect countryside princess.
Playfully, she runs ahead,
Red dress dancing along with her.

Dulcet laughter squeals "catch me"!
Smile creeping further at the childish game,
The silent village watching over like a parent,
With mild amusement as she runs on ahead.
I run forwards like a lumbering fool,
Amused by the challenge.

Intensity builds as she dances around me,
Teasing my inability to capture my prey.
More intently now, I watch cat-like and sharp,
Each footstep she takes like a bird in flight.
Laughter erupts as I rush forward to catch her,
Take her in my arms and steal a kiss.

Perfect, this day in the country has been.

.

Sculpted Emptiness (A Magpie-Inspired Tale)

Strange present.

Sat on my desk.

Don't really know what it does.

Or how it came to pass,

That this was the perfect choice,

For a friend to give me.

I don't get it.

The abstract shapes.

Sat there, starting at me.

As though I should read deeply,

Into the smooth black form,

Like a mistake from the clay room.

Cold to touch.

I run my fingers over.

Shiny surface curling round them.

Strange protrusions.

Why would you put them there?

Feeling lost in semantics.

Feeling guilt.

Creeping from behind my ears.

As the black, hollow form

Repulses me so very much.

Surely I've just missed the point?

Or even the smooth rounded end?

This poem was inspired by the intriguing photo prompt at Magpie Tales. 

A Mantra to Inspire Achievement

The inspiration for living,
Comes from so many things.
Moments so beautiful they almost hurt,
Kisses so passionate that they overwhelm,
Something so simple, yet faultless in its impact.

As you lay on your bed,
Barely sleeping from the stresses of life,
It helps to reach inside yourself and find your goals,
Challenge yourself a little bit each day,
Look deep inside, realise you can be all you want to be.

Searching the soul for dreams is the start,
But the real magic comes in the achievement,
As you look to the stars and take a step forward,
Followed by a hundred more to take you there,
Be proud of these moments, as you are living your dreams.

No one wants to wake up at 80,
With a life crammed with deep regrets,
Seize each moment, each opportunity,
Let the momentum drive you to the limits,
And surprise yourself with the strength of who you really are.

The Waiting Room

I have an appointment today with my back specialist (trying to make it hurt less!) but as usual the entire clinic has been delayed. 2 hours wait and counting! So to pass the time I wrote this on my iPhone... Hopefully not long now!

---------------------------------

Like the world's worst party,
A mismatch of emotionless faces stare back at me,
As I enter the fold.
A new plaything.
New being.
To enter the waiting room games.

Suspicion flicks across her face,
The haggard woman with the blue bonnet,
As the nurse comes over,
With a form to sign.
Cold eyes.
Burning into my auburn hair.

Tiny child cradled in her arms,
The young frazzled mother apologetically smiles,
As the grizzles start.
Her poor, sweet face,
Crumbles,
As the reddening baby lets out a wail.

Wondering on his face,
The confused old man stares at my book,
With such intent.
Try to avoid his gaze.
No luck.
Can feel my face flush crimson as he bores holes in my head.

Time passes so slowly,
As my hair burns, head is drilled and ears are ripped apart,
Desperately longing for air.
Stuffiness overwhelming.
Must be soon.
I long just to get up and leave this queue to hell.

But wait - my name?
All eyes search intently for the owner's place in line.
Defiantly me, I rise,
Feeling hatred boil.
I shrug.
Apologetic publicly but secretly jumping for joy.

An Ode to Spreadsheets

First week back after the holidays is always the worst... so my (unfortunately quite inelegant, I wrote this in like 10 mins this morning!) One Shot Wednesday offering is a satirical ode to how the office environment feels after a fortnight away... and most importantly - the spreadsheet.

Wednesday draws on,

Like the mistress of gloom.
Too far until Friday for the week to end soon.
The ticking of the clock tugs at my feet,
Restless in stillness tucked under my desk.

Back to work, feeling the daily grind,
Running the rhythms right out of my mind.
Strange peopleless calls and faceless mail,
The shimmer of light against beige-walled veils.
Tell me...

How long has it been?
Since this long day did start?
Surely more than the 2 hours that have dragged on thus far?
Even my sums start to spark interesting plans.
As dark spreadsheet magic allures my mind.

Control-C - Control-V, copy and paste,
A simple task done with ease and grace.
A sum of the rows and a formula here,
Complex operations done with no fear.
Simple...

Effortless charts,
Created with but a click,
Hand curled round mouse, the tool of the quick.
Ridged plastic squares, arranged in a block,
Rhythmically tapping the sum of my heart.

This day of frustration at the daily grind,
Could turn out, after all, to be just fine.
As the lure of the spreadsheet grips with full force,
Like a whirlwind of fire ravaging without remorse.
Just once...

Wish to achieve,
The holy grail of Excel,
The pivot table - an operation designed in hell.
Yet everyone needs a challenging goal,
To keep the rhythm of work pounding on in their soul.

Thought Drops on a Winter's Morn

I
                   dream freely
                                                           like
            a bird
                                                         reaching for freedom
                      against
                                          northerly winds
 cloaked
                                 in 
                                                      mystery
                                                                                   these
                stars
                              astound us
                                                          make
      us stop
                                breathe
                                                                         and listen.

A Pop Star Trip to the Beach

This poem was inspired the photo prompt at One Shoot Sunday - photo by Danielle Kelly.



Trip to the beach.

Promenade.

Another opportunity.
For my publicist.
To shine.

Swathed in taffeta.
Itchy and raw.

Float down boardwalks.

Pretending the world.

Looks only to me.

Achingly hot.

Skin dripping in sweat.

But heads turn.

And pride swells.

Within my soul.

Feather corset.

Tickles my neck.

Unbearably so.

The urge to scratch.

Almost too much.

False smile.

Must look at ease.

Lace veil clouds vision.

Not a care in the world.

Even if I can barely see.

False fun in my eyes.

This is how I roll.

Lusting for sweatpants.

But no one can know.

My inner desires.

The things I must do.

That people enjoy.

Bemuse and amuse.

Yet make me rich.

So no complaints here.

Wisp in the Wind Contest Entry - You Are My Everything

So I'm giving the poetry contests at allpoetry.com a go, which seem quite good fun =)  Below is my entry to the contest hosted by Donna Grimes aka BluRosePoet8488 (http://allpoetry.com/contest/2506063).  The task being to write a poem inspired by her words:

'I could write a thousand words upon a thousand more and never really touch the depth of the love I feel inside for you. I can only capture a small wisp in the wind to whisper to your heart... I love you!' 
~Donna Sue Grimes~

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Wind whips across my tearful face,

As I stand in the freezing, pouring rain.
Torrents glancing off my sodden clothes
And running down my dripping hair.
Overwhelming,
The intense shaking rips at my soul,
But it could not compare to losing you.

The burning sun sears my face,
As the dry, desert heat creeps inside.
Tearing the moisture from my dry eyes,
Filling my aching lungs with sand.
I can't breathe,
As the pounding in my head closes in,
But it could not compare to losing you.

Icy cold chills my every being,
Muscles tearing as they fight the freeze.
Frozen crystals forming on my cheeks,
Lips too blue to be able to speak.
Agonising,
The painful frost within my limbs,
But it could not compare to losing you.

For all the trials the world could give,
Impossible feats over venomous scars,
This love that words cannot describe,
Would conquer every time.
Invincible,
You make my soul so bright,
How I wish you could see the glow.

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Something a bit different: my poems as pictures...

Wordle's interpretation of my blog at the end of 2010... I quite like it =)  

Make your own at http://www.wordle.net