Be nice

My face is a tormented Jack Russell, snarling at compliments and sympathy

My arms are like a big gorilla, strong and sturdy and firm

My legs are like two strong oaks and slow

My head is like a mountain, topped off with flecks of snow

My hands are like the claws of crabs, clumsy and bent

My feet are big like blue footed boobies

My voice is like a squirrel, that’s in a hurry and it is high

My back is strong like a bear and can carry the falling sky!

My teeth are like ice bergs, white and fade with time

My tongue is a slithering snake that will bite you

My ears are deaf and humble, like the naked mole rat

My nose can smell a lie for miles, like a German shepherd on a track

You think you can insult me, but I’ve heard it all before

You think that you can hurt me, but I think you’re just a bore

It’s sad to say these things to me, no it’s pathetic and it’s wrong!

Who made you Judge of the year, why can’t we get along?

You think you dig deep with your words, but instead you give me a giggle

Because, you’re so pathetic and insecure for you, these things will niggle

I’d say a few to you, but I am kinder and I am nice

I don’t like hurting others

So take my advice…

Don’t let people think you’re mean, don’t let them hate you, not a bit

Because being hated makes a lonely world and you won’t want to be in it

So please be kind and go on your way

And remember this lesson well

Because eventually all you’ve done for yourself, is create a living Hell

No one likes a gossip, no one likes a snob

No one likes a bully; they think that they are knobs

So trust these words and be nice

Go on your merry way

And maybe one day you won’t be lonely and insecure

And maybe you could play?

I shall become a bore

I’ve screwed up in a major way

Running truths off my tongue like an ever flowing tap

Drowning the people who listen to my words

Dragging them under the currents of my despair

Till there is no one left to care

My tongue will be the death of me

Always yapping about this and that

Thinking people can cope with that

But they never do

One day I’ll learn to be mute

Then I’ll be a mystery to all

Holding my tongue

Maintaining a wall

Till perhaps one day I won’t be lonely anymore

Just someone who hardly speaks about herself

A bore

My creative process

Since 2017 the idea of me getting out of bed and being eager to write anything towards a novel first thing has been a laughable notion; I used to be like that every day, but not since then.

Before September 2022 I would write approximately 1500 to 3k words a time, approximately 3 times a week sometimes more, but since September that too has been a laughable notion.

Yet there it is, several times this week I have done some creative work almost daily, though mostly drawing, but today was different.

I woke up with the enthusiasm to write and I wrote for nearly two hours and although it was only just under 2k words in that time, painfully slow in comparison to past efforts – it made me feel accomplished in some way and that perhaps I am getting my mojo back again?

Though the story I wrote towards was a project known here as Steampunk 2, I haven’t thought about this story for a long time, in fact it was last mentioned in a post here dated 3^rd July 2022 and that was probably the last time I did any thinking about it!

I have no idea why I woke up and immediately thought about that project, usually ideas stew in my mind for days before I get around writing things down, but not today – this was an instant!

I am still unsure why, but it doesn’t matter – the thing is, I did it!  I wrote like how I used to years ago, woke up with energy and enthusiasm to do so and I did it!

I think the idea of forcing myself to concentrate on a particular project just because, could be the reason why I may not want to write it.  I have pressurised myself and before I moved out of my parents’ house, I never did that.  I never pressured myself into saying oh well; I have written five chapters to project such and such I must do so again tomorrow!  I never did that, I skipped from one thing to another quite merrily and was very productive back then!

I think I’ve been too influenced by the scientific and orderly mind of Paul in this regard, because he has been the one to convince me to only concentrate on one maybe three projects a time, not all seventy odd!

So I kind of developed an element of guilt behind it wanting to write outside my planned five main projects.

I decided three wasn’t enough for me, I needed five.  That didn’t make me anymore productive either.

So, now I am going back to the idea that any work on any day is good work as it is towards something – no work in one day because  I don’t want to focus on one of five ideas is unacceptable to me.

You know what?  Last week I wanted to start writing towards a horror story that’s been in my head for two years and I didn’t knuckle down to do it, because it wasn’t my main five projects.  I had this guilt complex of writing towards that story, because I should be working on ABCD or E – you get the idea?

So I spent just 45 minutes half-heartedly writing towards project AD and the quality in my work was terrible!  In fact I feel like deleting last week’s work!

But if I had of written towards that horror I know I would have got 2 or even 3k done that day, because there were a few things I wanted to write about in that story and I was in the mood for it. 

Guilt stopped me.

I am being disloyal to my main five projects I felt!

Pah!

I am not going to do this anymore!

I believe the universe was talking to me directly tonight because I was reading a book called “Tate – brief lessons in creativity” and they reckon that every creative has their own process and when they deviate from it, they become naff or blocked.  It’s not 100% quoted accurately, but the gist is there!

Today I decided to do whatever I feel like from now onwards and today has been the most productive writing day I’ve had since 2017 in my opinion!

I noticed my poetry is becoming difficult for me, because I am trying to push myself to create at least one poem a day to keep the blog alive.  But that’s not working anymore for me!

I am putting myself into a poetry block mind-set and my creative brain is rebelling by thinking about other things – like art where I don’t restrict myself and I have even caught myself dancing and moving my body more and doing wacky things (which is normal for me anyway) only I think about random lyrical lines I am making up as I go along but it’s all freestyle and unrecorded.  Then I realised, it’s a kind of performance art this! 

Once again I felt the universe was talking to me, because it was at this time I saw an advertisement for a performance art show being performed at The Belgrade theatre called “Drive your plow over the bones of the dead”; where it is apparently dance, poetry, acting and all sorts of things in one show.  I don’t know much about it, but it kind of spoke to me and I would like to see the show some day – though I probably won’t get the opportunity to! 

My brain doesn’t like limitations, so it’s removing me from what it sees as harmful creative pursuits and setting me free in others I don’t overthink too much!

When I start overthinking and when I start making rules, I block those pursuits too… I think I am learning a lot about myself lately!

There are many things I would like to write for my blog but I worry about how chaotic it may appear to my readers.

Abstract thoughts, descriptions, no real story, no real poetry either;  just words thrown together almost lyrically with descriptions of random acts and I sit back and wonder – what am I doing?  What is this called?  Overthinking again… then I block myself and I delete what I have done because I become embarrassed.

It’s odd, nobody will get it, I think to myself.

This is the true reason behind my procrastination – the reality is, I am doing things but I am destroying them no soon as I have done them, because I think the world will find it strange or unfathomable.

Like I have lost my mind and lost in thought and dribbling on with different words, to the extent I appear to be talking gobbledygook and as though I’ve lost the plot entirely… men in white coats will be coming for you soon – echoes Paul, who also doesn’t really grasp what I do at times!  But then again, he doesn’t grasp creative people as a whole, does he?  Being a scientist and all that!

Then I think – what the heck… should I take a risk and publish it?

I never really know for sure… but I think I will risk it soon!

Thanks for reading!

Some Words

Words come and go

I write them down as they flow

Alike to the wet river

Words come streaming, sometimes slither

Some words are good and others bad

Others make me happy and others make me sad

But words flow through me like a breeze

You will see me write with ease

But sometimes I throw those words away

Because I didn’t like how they played

I sit and whittle away the hours

I fill the page with wordy showers

Some words are nice and some are evil

Some are alone and some in sequels

Some makes books and others don’t

Some words I will publish and others I won’t

Some words will play with your mind

Others are hard to understand I find

Some words are long and others short

Some are loose and others taut

Some are fine and some are not

Some words come out like a blot

Some are written by the hand

Some are typed on a computer, grand

But mostly words just sit with me

In my mind and won’t be free

Those words they have a hold on me

Clogging my chakra aggressively

Because I will not share those words with you

For all sorts of reasons both old and new

For some words are good and some are bad

And some words make me happy and others make me sad

And all the while I sit with words

And some fly out of me like birds

The writer’s sword

How very cutting is a writer’s words

Which sword do they wield?

A tough muscle of a tongue

Where many a heart has been killed

The writer shies not from truth

Their words bite like a determined croc

Each has a loyal following; each has their own dear flock

What next shall a writer say?

One can never tell

But dear hearts sit in hope or wonder

Will they be bought to Hell?

Rigid mind

Rigid, those are my thoughts tonight; Rigid and taut through depression and desperation

No matter how hard I try to sit myself down tonight and ignore what’s going on in my heart and mind on a base emotional level, I still can’t help but be dragged down by a numbed mind.

I have written four poems tonight, all destined for the deletion pile, though I am trying to be more merciful with my craft and lock them away in a file on my laptop called “wasted”, as it was wasted time.

Wasted one, wasted two, wasted three, and wasted four, until I felt that tonight I am not in my poetic mojo at all and gave up.

I am certainly in a creative mind-set, but not really focused for Project AD, that’s a children’s comedy horror and I feel more like writing something along the lines of Mr Ted or The Gargoyles Heart.

Oftentimes when I have days or nights like these, I tend not to write anything, not even towards my blog – but I have decided to change.

I have decided to share these times with you all, because these are the times when I can get really down to the heart of the matter – become creative, it’s a strange place to be.

Depressed and apathetic in everything but the written word, depending however what that written word is going to be at the time and whether or not it matches what’s going on inside of you.

A few years ago I used to write snippets, where they were more or less like practise pieces and I would just write the first thing that came into my mind and I would post it.  I got out of the habit of that and it really should be revived again.

This is the start of that.

Thanks for reading…

Blocked throat chakra

Words don’t come when you want them to

Your mind becomes a blank

Tongue tied is not the only problem

Your throat feels tightly cranked

You find it hard to swallow

You find it hard to think

You are very frightened that your words might stink

But listen very closely

I have some help for you

Just use a little magic

And words should soon flow through

Wear a turquoise near your throat

Your chakras all blocked up

Meditate a little while

Don’t feel so beat-up

And soon you will get talking

To the one you want

Because your chakra is nice and clean

And your words are on a jaunt

So just remember what I’ve said

And heed these wise, wise words

Just wear that blue stone around your neck

And your voice will fly like birds

A writer’s battle

A maelstrom of words I vomit on the paper

Tempest upon tempest I write as though I’m in some kind of fever

Inspiration to vivre après my demise

This is the way of a writer’s life

Eternally battling the onslaught of locution like some kind of ablution to cleanse my mind

One final word to conclude todays work

For tomorrow I may die

Because life’s a jerk

Should I let go?

I’m on the edge of the world

Wil I fall?

I am holding onto life

Like a fool

I should just let go and let fate know

I can’t take much more!

I am bored of monotony

Everyone has forgotten me

There is no leverage to keep me going

In this lake of tears I keep rowing

Like a seamstress I keep sewing, a new life for me

But then things happen like tragedy

Like a wheel turning around and it’s trapped me

Like a hamster in its wheel going around and around

Like a dog trapped in a cage within a pound

All these words are exhausting me

I should let go

What exactly is holding me to want to stay?

There is no play

I have totally and utterly lost my way

And dribbling words upon this page

Like some demented poetic sage

Writing this inside her cage

Locked inside dreams that won’t come true

Wondering what the blazes to do

Just let go or live some more

Maybe someone will knock on the door

And I will leave this solemn place

And maybe find again my pride and grace?

Until then I am hanging off this cliff, wondering…

Should I let go?

You are loved by God

I am a light bringer, changer of faith

My words are spoken softly my image locked in wraith

I am gentle with my words, soft like a summer’s breeze

A little hazy you will feel, but I hope to bring you ease

I kiss you on your soul, yet you feel it not

For you are tied and contorted within the Devil’s knot

You don’t know that path you have, is a path you should not dwell

You are afraid of primal things, like punishment and Hell

But those things are not to be feared, for they cannot touch you so

Hell is not a place, where mortals are doomed to go

No

Each soul is special and unique

Each soul is loved by God

You will be forgiven at the end of life

Don’t think it rather odd

You can’t understand what it’s like to be God

To love you when you’ve sinned

Because nothing can ever love like God, my beautiful wunderkind

So hear me now and rest at ease

Hell is not where you are sure to go

Because you have lived a life of lies doesn’t mean God will hate you so

No

He knew you before you were born

He knew each step you’d take

So how can he punish what he has made?

Do you think he makes mistakes?

No

He doesn’t and you should know

Because everything is perfect, he has made it so

So away with your fears and bring in your trust

That everything is as it should be and that these things are a must

You cannot do anything that is wrong

Because God has allowed you to sing your song

But do not be blinded by pride and decay

Because God sends in people to change and to sway

Each little step you are sure to take, to ensure that everything is perfect

Make no mistake!

There is no bad decision as long as you learn

Which person is the one of which you should turn

Which event is a lesson and which is a lie

Which is Gods path and which is a try?

So trust in God that he has your hand

And you will realise all is grand

So off you go and learn the way

Reach out to those who help you sway

Keep out of harm and join in with love

Smile, be happy because you are loved!