Heartwarming and inspirational fiction
Day 3 of NaPoWriMo and here is poem number 3 – part rant, part poem & hastily pulled together between day job, visit to the hairdresser and daily commute.
Turn it down
The world is full
of people so loud
you wouldn’t believe
how they invade my space
with their hundred decibel
voices like foghornsContinue reading “Turn it down”
Day Two of NaPoWriMo and here’s poem number two. It is especially for my dearest Rachel who thinks I can only write depressing things.
I have always liked the idea of meditation but have never been able to empty my mind sufficiently to do it successfully. Maybe I’ll try doing this. I do have a recurring dream that I’m flying although it’s usually because I’m trying to make my way to something and I’m very, very late. I did think of writing about that but that might sound a bit too depressing…
On Meditation
Parents cluck around children
playing rough and tumble.
Two girls conjoined
by a single headphone
fail badly to harmonise.Continue reading “On Meditation”
Well today is the start of NaPoWriMo, or National Poetry Writing Month, which is an annual project in which participating poets attempt to write a poem a day for the month of April. As I mentioned a couple of blogs ago I’ve decided to give it a go. It could be a bit of a marathon effort and I’ve never been much of a long distance runner but we’ll see how it goes.
My first poem is actually one I’ve been working on for a couple of months now. I’m not sure if that’s completely in the spirit of things but you’ve got to make a start somewhere. It’s called For Micheal.
Subsequent submissions might be a little more scrappy but to help keep me going I’ve made a list of potential subjects & NaPoWriMo also support by providing a daily prompt.
If anyone wants to know more about NaPoWriMo you can follow them on twitter @napowrimo2014 or visit them on http://www.napowrimo.net/
Alternatively, if anyone has any requests please leave them on a comment. I’d love to hear from you .
I dreamed again
of the last time I saw you,
that summer’s afternoon long ago.
You had grown since you last wore
those trousers, too short now.
Hair cut to reveal fine features,
your plump child’s face gone.
You were a heartbreaker.
“My mother sometimes loved me” he says, “well that is to say she loved me when it suited her. She was not an affectionate woman, not affectionate at all. As a matter of fact she could be quite unkind.”
“I’m sorry to hear that” I reply, “mothers should always be kind to their children.”
“Yes you would think so wouldn’t you?” His lips part to form something more akin to a grimace than a smile.
I search for phrases, conversational pieces suitable for such a candid revelation. “Was your childhood very unhappy?”
“Oh no” he says “not at all. It was mostly very pleasant. I didn’t know any different you see. I thought everyone’s mother gave kisses as treats to be earned. “
“A mother’s love is usually unconditional” I say.
“Yes apparently so. Still, I had the last laugh” he lets out a sly chuckle. “She’s dead now.”
“Oh dear.”
He claps his hands and rubs them together with glee. “Shall we have some dessert? The Death By Chocolate looks exquisite don’t you think?”
Well it’s been a while again: I seem to have been suffering a little from Writer’s Block lately but I’m hoping that I’ve hit on a cunning plan to put all that behind me. I’ve decided to sign up for NaPoWriMo, or National Poetry Writing Month, which is an annual project in which participating poets attempt to write a poem a day for the month of April. http://www.napowrimo.net.
Be prepared, it will very much be a stream of consciousness so they could be awful. Still, you’ve got to take a punt sometimes haven’t you? Unless that is you want to sit in some dark hermit’s corner and do nothing but meditate all day.
Talking of dark, I thought I’d get some practise with a little poem. It’s called Julia.
I won’t say what it’s about. I’ll let you decide.
Let’s hope there’s more and better to come in April
He was still yours when they took him down.
You saw him staring back
through that bug eyed monster,
twisted by the drop.
Somewhere in there
was your beloved son.
There was still a hint of the babe who’d
suckled at your breast,
his fragile milky breath placing
a marker on your soul.
You built him a fortress
and made a mother’s promise.Continue reading “Julia”
“I love you” she said
and saw immediately
from the laughter in his eyes
that this was amusing to him,
funny in that nasty, sneering way.
She’d offered her heart on a plate.
He’d taken it from her,
sliced it up
and swallowed it down,
then belched it out with a look.
She swaddled the remains,
pulled them to her breast
and made a hasty retreat.
Hello
I’ve had a great few months of activity but sadly not writing activity. You know the sort of Summer stuff that we all do, festivals, holidays, general outdoorsy stuff. Well having just come back from a few weeks in wonderfully hot & sunny Croatia to some cold, wet & dreary UK weather I’m pretty sure all that wonderful stuff is behind me now & the rest of the year is likely to be taken up with more indoor pursuits, although we do have the Birmingham Literature Festival coming up soon which is always good. Generally though I’ll try to buckle down & produce a bit more material. Anyway here’s a start. Whilst on holiday with a bunch of friends we were talking about apology letters which are apparently trending right now – who knew? Not me that’s for sure. It got me thinking about the first possible apology letter & here’s what I came up with….
Dear AdamContinue reading “Sorry”
This morning I was reading about the style of writing that Bowie was so fond of a few years ago – you know, the one where he cut up words from his own diaries & used them to build songs.
I thought I’d give it a go with a poem but, slight problem, I haven’t written a diary since I was about ten and even if I wanted to go that far back they were lost a long time ago. I don’t remember what I said in them but my guess is they wouldn’t be as interesting as David’s anyway. Thinking about it, it was probably mainly about horses, scrumping (we did a lot of that in those days although I don’t know why, the apples were always sour) and my crush on Geoff Dyson. Hmm, I wonder what he’s doing now?
Anyway a substitute diary needed to be found so I picked on the next best thing which was my Outlook calendar from work. I should explain, I spend most of my working day in meetings & I also use it to set myself reminders so it’s pretty full. The result was a poem made up almost entirely of business speak but I quite like it. What do you think? It’s called A Modern Romance…Continue reading “The Bowie School of Writing/ A Modern Romance”
Hazel Ward 