Tag Archives: hope

I’ll Try

I’ll throw caution to the wind

I’ll try discomfort although it’s queer

I will stand shoulder to shoulder with love

No matter how much I fear

Though these words make me shy

I am blushing as they are written

But I have to say one thing – with you I’m truly smitten

I can’t turn away from this

I’ll regret it more than you can know

I think I’m safe within your arms

Together we will grow!

I can’t promise I won’t waver

I can’t promise I will cope

But I will try my best just for you

Well, let’s just see and hope!

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Jigsaw

Consumed by my thoughts as I ponder love and dreams

Absorbing the reality, is all as it seems?

Confused by the attention

Concerned that it’s false

Excited and fearful, my hearts racy pulse

Determined not to hope too much

Trying hard not to dare

Sitting back and thinking, like I just don’t care

How harsh that would be of me, if it were ever true

But I am thoroughly puzzled by the jigsaw that is you

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Losing the fight

One thing about me is I am good at not showing negative emotions.  Online it seems like I am a drama queen that I am suckered into my emotions and I go to dark places and I seem self-absorbed. 

Offline however, I hide it.  I hide myself when I am down so I don’t bring down others I am around.

I am an empath; I soak up energies of other people, even just by thinking about them I can kind of get a feel what’s going on in their lives.  So I respect that other people might be empathic too.

It’s a real hard adjustment living with someone who is as apathetic in life as I am; it’s like a prison of despair in a very real sense.

I never used to be like this.  I am trapped in depression because I am around apathetic or superficial people, or people who just seem unemotional a lot of the time.

I used to be such a happy Pollyanna type; those days seem very far away right now. 

I am getting to the point I am losing my strength to fight it and carry on, I am getting into a hopeless place.

Gradually over the months I’ve lost more and more of my appetite, to the extent I think soon I will not even bother to try and eat.  I have only just realised today that it’s actually probably due to depression that I can’t eat, because on the days I have been able to eat a little more, things have been a little lighter around me.

I am doing less and less as time goes by, it’s like I am a clockwork doll which is about to lose her energy at any moment and there is no one left to wind me up again.  Isolation has done that to me, isolation and a lazy superficial person I live with.

I needed Samaritans today, but I am deaf, I can’t speak on the phone – they don’t do text speech yet in my area apparently, but it’s coming soon…

Will it come soon enough?

I try to hide when I cry, I don’t like people seeing me like that, imagine how awkward it was for me when Henry walked in on me because I lost track of time and he came home from school and rushed to my bedroom to give me one of his ever increasingly rare hello hugs and instantly his smile became a face of concern. 

Guilt, that’s what hit me when I saw his face, cold hard guilt.

I had my hoodie up and I shielded my eyes but he is a smart boy, he wasn’t convinced when I faked a cold.

He demanded to know what caused it and hugged me as he became firm about getting to the bottom of it.

He left eventually. 

What bothers me is not that he caught me, but that his father came into the room just ten minutes before completely unfazed by how he found me.  He never asked any questions other than when I wanted dinner and was eager to leave again without battering an eyelid.  When Paul left, I got worse, because one of the reasons why I was upset was because I felt lonely and I felt no one could care if I were to die tomorrow.

To me, this proved it.

No one but Henry would.

Perhaps I am selfish, perhaps I am a drama queen – perhaps tomorrow I will snap out of it?

Perhaps!

But right now, I am losing heart to try anymore. 

I am tired of broken dreams, broken promises, and snapshots of a better future without any proof or real taste of it.  I am tired of the lies; I am tired of people using me as a pawn in a game.

I am tired. 

Thanks for reading…

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Tree of life

The raven upon the wing espies her brother

The warrior king

Soon to fly to his nest

She sings a last farewell

Meet you in Hell

She caws to them

They that tried to do her harm

She sounds her alarm

To wake all that slept this day

To tell them, she will fly away

To a nest of promises and love

She is better than the dove

For she is a warrior through and true

She will fight for all of you

You who sleep this day

She will lead the way

All you need is hope in your heart

That when she departs

She is free

That the enemy can’t get to her tree

For the lion prowls to guard

The tree of life’s safeguard

From the roves of demon hoards

Directing angels with their swords

To defend the tree of God

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Hate

Hate is misunderstanding and fear

Hate is primal and doesn’t endear

Hate is the biting words of anger

Hate is often wrought with danger

Hate can’t love when it’s aroused

Hate is where the ignorant is housed

Hate doesn’t hope to change at all

Hate scratches and scrapes and viciously mauls

That’s what hate is behind these walls

That’s why I call haters fools!

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Toxic slurs

Jealousy is a poison that seeps deep within your soul

Dragging you into a hell of your own making without your control

So many times you speak with bitterness on your tongue

You hope that the words you vomit would have stung

But they bounce off me because they are lame

Because every sentence you speak to me, sounds the same

You whine like a baby who wants more candy

Drinking yourself into a stupor with more brandy

Slurring your vitriol and your contempt

I know fully well what is your intent

But its not working because my dear

I see your frustration and your tear

I feel pity for someone like you

Because you are a toxic old shrew

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Abstract world

I hear the gold in your heart

It’s beating like a tin

It is thick with the taste of happiness

And it is wet with the fluid of youth and the lack of sin

Cherished by the cherry tree

By the birds and solidarity

Your voice is shrill like a mouse

Your voice is home, like a house

And I am warmed by your eyes as they burn into mine

I can smell your dreams

They flow like wine

Into a well of hope and future

Mending my wounds as the suture

And I am destined to stay with you

Because you are special too

We live in this daydream

Walking on the mist of clouded sleepwalk

How much I can hear you talk

Of all the mysterious things

Our existence is strange to the people

The earth ball round

They can’t hear the sounds we do

They are deaf and have no clue

We are different

You and I

This is why we walk on the sky

And we together we’ll be

For eternity

Alone

I have always loved the abstract in poetry, film and sometimes art.  I have also always love innovations in absurdism and surrealism in all art forms – though I have to admit I treat them all with guilty pleasure, as these things are rarely understood by the world and are often shunned as being too weird.

I often want to write whole stories and songs like this, but it’s so very niche really and I don’t like how some people will try to dissect the art and prose to try to make sense of it, or me – or worse, to presume that I have some kind of deep mental problem or something along the lines of substance abuse, simply because I can put my mind into far-out places!

A school teacher of mine in the last school I ever went to, called Mr Kingham saw how much of an abstract, absurdist thinker I was and tried to get me to take art seriously in school – but I never did.  Because it was not an encouraged thing at home; he was so proud of a statue I made in abstract of a guitar, that he insisted that he had to take it home and keep it forever for himself as it was too brilliant to just throw away at the end of the school year!

My parents never understood the excitement in him, nor why he would insist that out of all my achievements art supreme in me.  I never understood it either, I don’t reckon much of my art – my paintings and drawings that is, and even my abstract poetry.

I think it is nice to play with them – but is it really contributing to anything?

I have an over-analytical mind at times – yes I am playful, yes I can do this and the above I enjoyed doing a lot!  But I can’t help but think that other people will find it all a stupid waste of time?

There has been hundreds of poems similar to the above, I have deleted since having my blog after deciding that I might be too embarrassed to share them after all.  Hundreds might be an understatement.

There are times where I stop writing my novels, because my thought has become too abstract, that I have to put it away and rethink them for normal brains. 

Such as I am having a serious rethink about my description in project AD!

The description in project AD is based entirely on what a wild animal would perceive of things when it has been bought into the human world – how would a wild hare view newspapers strewn over a floor?  To me that is a simple idea, obviously they are the weirdest shaped leaves I ever did see with speckles of black all over them and white and snow!

The strange shaped logs that the two legged creatures sat upon groaned like some tortured squashed animal.  I mean, could you really read a novel like that?

As much as I love to write it, I worry about how it’s going to be received!

Yes I often hold back in this kind of description for a lot of my work, but it soon gets boring when I do.

Sometimes I think outside of the box so much I find it hard to get back into the box!

I love wild and out there ideas, hence my obsession with stories such as Alice in Wonderland and through the looking glass, Wizard of Oz fourteen books, the arc of the scythe series, His dark materials and such the likes.

As a child my imagination often ran away with me, I didn’t need to see scary things when the light was off, I saw them when the light was on! 

A mere pile of clothes on a chair could take on some weird shape of an abstract multi-coloured witch and the pigeon on the window ledge cooing sounded like some awful mischievous chuckle.  I often found myself over the years fantasising about making mini art movies based on those kinds of imaginings, but I don’t have the wherewithal to know what I am doing!

Last year when I made a post called “The spider’s suicide note” https://tardycreative.com/2022/07/30/a-spiders-suicide-note-or/ I actually wanted to rush off and make a mini movie about it and really make a thing about it with noir 1930s detective kind of slant to it – but I don’t know how to do these things and I don’t have anyone to help!

But it can be bizarre and spontaneous and it can be hard to hold off for a while waiting for things to be done, because by that time the inspiration would have left me!

I wanted to join Skillshare to learn the technology for all of that, but I can’t afford an annual subscription taken out in one lump sum like they are requesting nowadays!

I am really upset about that actually, because I was going to get ready to learn these things for YouTube and TikTok – but it’s going to have to wait until I save up for it.

The above poem is heavily inspired by Bjork and Aurora, I love those women!

Let me know of what you think of all the above… do you get abstract ideas like these or are they beyond you?

Thanks for reading!

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Filed under About my work, poetry

Waves of love

Love comes in waves

It never stays

How I’m lost beneath the waves

Will they come again?

I hope and pray

My beating heart is bleeding

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Like lollipops & rainbows

Drowning in the fear of change

Will anything be the same?

I was promised things in my dream time

Will you promise me things will be fine?

I hope and pray that you’ll love me

I hope and I pray that you will stay

I dream that things will be lovelier for me

In each and every way

I stop to smell the roses

And hope I’m not pricked by thorns

I am tired of the sadness

I am tired of being forlorn

I try to stay positive, like the burning sun

I try to think in colour

Like the rainbow, it’s fun

I try to be happy

I try each and every day

I try to chase the storm out

I try to cover the grey

And I think I’m getting better

At finding joy in my life

Away from all the sadness

Away from all of the strife

So hear me when I tell you

I am looking for better things

Like lollipops and rainbows

And birds that sing

Though you call me rather silly

You have fallen on deaf ears

Because the light isn’t scary

No I have no more fears

Things are going to be better

Just you wait and you will see

That I will be happy soon

And I will be free!

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What is winter?

What does winter mean to me?

Cool crispy frosty mornings, where cobwebs are frozen solid, glistening in the morning sunlight forming prisms on the snow.

I’m like a dragon breathing smoke because my breath is hot in comparison to the air around me and I am snug and warm in fleece from head to toe.

I get to throw snowballs at my favourite people in jest and run after each other in tension that we might slip and fall down; if we’re lucky it will be powdery snow this year, not the sludgy wet kind.

Winter means lots of lovely filling hot meals, beef stew, chili, roast dinners, soups – all my favourite comfort foods and it’s plum season to boot!

Morning walks are more of a pleasure because of the icy beauty around us from the night before; everywhere has newly made crystals which shine like rainbows if you look at them the right way.  Skinny dogs are uncomfortable and need a coat, fatter ones are eager to stay indoors – but get the right dog and it is a heavenly time of year to go for a walk!

Just at the end of winter is the time where I start to think about the garden for the coming year, sometimes prepping seeds before spring in the greenhouse already, to give me a few weeks head start in comparison to other people, therefore a longer harvest time.

It’s a spicy season, it’s a sweet treat and high fat season – it’s not the season for diets!

It’s the season for hot water bottles and fleece blankets and cosy snuggles by the fireplace.

It’s not the season for cold desserts; it’s the season for cherry pie, French toast and peach crumble all washed down in hot chocolate, ginger or hot apple spiced tea.

Poinsettias around the house welcoming in Christmas with holly and ivy and red roses!

The house sparkles in the joyous illuminations of the season of celebration, hope, renewal and promise.

Families and neighbours come together to sing, to dance, to pray, to forget the badness of the past year and to give thanks, gifts, charity and love.

It may be the end of the year, the harbinger of death all around us as nature is laid bare – but it is really the busiest time for creation, planning and new beginnings.

That’s what winter means to me – it means hope – it means a new start!

Thanks for reading!

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Filed under Defining myself