The Morning After

Sun triggered migraine
Wing mirror revealing truth
Exhausted eyes, sunk

Better to remain silent

It’s a strange embrace, these salted leaks

That storm from undaunting eyes

Suffocated fears, gnawing inside

Of which naivety, implores me to share

Begs me to take the untrodden route

To finally confide with secure ideas

A false notion of safety- acceptance

This one will appreciate raw honesty

Emotion encourages the onslaught

Mistaken understanding

Fooled by hormones?

No, I am the fool

Every rose has its thorns

For every stone that breaks you

For every leaf that’s turned

For all the grass that’s greener

Another heart gets burned

 

The game

Remembering back

We play place the hotel room

Your smug face grinning

SoCS – Real

For anyone not already heard of the Stream of conciousness Saturday: which is a prompt put out every Friday,  then check out Linda’s blog below

Linda G Hill

My stream this week was encouraged by a CampNaNoWriMo cabin sprint too, so double encouragement, thanks guys 🙂

 

Real

Get real!

Think about everything that you need to get real with today. Perhaps you need to change something in your life or at least be real about it to yourself. Sometimes we get so set in our ways that we lie or at least cover up the truths, even to ourselves.

I get why, I do it too. Sometimes it’s hard to examine our real thoughts and feelings, hard to accept that change is necessary…is inevitable, yet when it needs to be done then it’s hard, it’s scary even. We put so much effort into living out each day with the idea that if we just keep our heads above water, if we just keep moving along no matter how slow, then at some point it will all make sense, it will somehow feel real.

But it doesn’t.

Sometimes the light of day is like pouring boiling water over dusty cracks that we suddenly realise are there. Upon viewing these blemishes we realise that everything we thought was real and honest is now nothing more than a facade: a strangers face tacked on to our hidden desires. A covering for thoughts or feelings that reside deep within, that we don’t simply feel we can show to the real world. so instead we slip on a mask and wear it well, so others can’t see the real you. We might feel alone in this fake life created, yet we tell ourselves over and over that somehow this is better than the alternative. That somehow the monotonous existence of our being is the real world, is our real life, and that wanting, hoping for anything else is too presumptuous, too extravagant.

Do we really want the real us to surface?

To swim free and vulnerable out into the open. To allow ourselves to open up and release the inner beings of our souls into the real world, to allow ourselves to soar and swoop amongst the others. Do we really feel ready to allow reality to test us? Are we prepared for the onslaught of real experience to taint our fledgling emotions, to cast aspersions on our real self, to crush what little fragility we have left inside.

Are we ready for real life and all its brutality?

Let me thing about this, whilst I hide under my rock a while longer.

Stolen Words

Its those stray words

Consonants singing across vacant air

The loose thoughts, that jingle

Emerging from the brains of hidden minds

And escaping

Hovering

Within the grasp of ears

Its the way that they stab

Into heads

Into hearts

Stored away, until finally, freedom

comes – That exultant gasp for life

Rolling from tongues into existence

Permeating the waves

Until, suddenly

Grabbed by a precocious writer

When you sleep…

She likes to watch you breathe

To stroke the rise of your chest

As ribs fall, exhausted into flesh

You don’t stir – yet she plants kisses

Across the tops of your thighs

Fingers the crease, of your knee,

Slips a slender palm into your clenched fist

 

As you sleep

She absorbs your heat

Closing her limbs around you

Just, as Ivy claims a tree

Using your skin as a canvas

She moulds your form, to fit hers

Breathing life into your dreaming corpse

Nuzzling your slack jaw, until

It wakens with a sigh

Allowing her to nestle: a queen bee

Surrounded by the petals of your drowsy love

 

 

 

 

 

Team Lurghee

Weakness, weeping nose

At the wrong time of the month

Ailments ganging up

A-Z Challenge – Theme Reveal

It’s a little late but I had a sneaky weekend away which I guess I could technically class as research for my theme which will be:

Stolen words

This in essence is going to be me taking inspiration from conversations had or overheard (the train is a great one for this). It might be a stray word that gives me a springboard, or a turn of phrase that I like, maybe even a poem inspired by the subject matter.

Since this is the A-Z Challenge they also will need to match up to the allocated letter of the alphabet, so I am already out with my notepad jotting down ideas to use.

I’m counting online conversations as viable too so  beware, I might just steal your words!

If you fancy checking out some of the other theme reveals then check out the list over at A-Z Challenge

 

Egg – SoCS

Over at Linda’s blog for the prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “egg.”

I had some train time without internet to kill so this prompt was a lovely thing to fill the gap, thank you Linda 🙂

 

EGG

What it the chicken of the egg that came first? Obviously those cunning folk among us know that the answer to this age old question is the egg. Ok,so it wasn’t a chicken egg, but a lizard or fish egg is still an egg never the less and why should they count of any less value. It reminds me of a poems I once read as a child and whilst I enjoyed the rhyme enjoy to remember it, I guess at the time that I never really understood it.

The codfish lays ten thousand eggs
The humble hen lays one
The codfish never cackles
to tell usewhat she’s done
But we all scorn the codfish
Whilst the humble hen we prize
Which only goes to show you that it pays to advertise

But isn’t it a great little poem and actually shines quite a truth on real life: those that shout the loudest do seem to get more out of life, whilst the quiet hard workers continue to strive on and get passed over. (walks away from the rant)
Now I remember this poem from a poetry book that I used to have as a young child, I can’t remember the book title or the poet and maybe even some of the words are incorrect but it is from an old memory. This isn’t the only poem I remember from being a child, which I think is testement to how poetry can really make an impact on people, or children even. I think it was the rhyme that made it stick, along with others such as Gerry the giraffe and Rhubarb Teb. Even the old Oliphant which I only found out as an adult came from a book: Tolkien – Lord of the Rings. When I think to myself of all the poems and song lyrics that I can remember it’s actually a fair amount of memory, yet I cannot seem to remember where I leave keys or recall conversations I have had the previous day: what’s with that?

Sometimes my mind draws such a blank on simple everyday things and I can’t work out how it can be so good for silly non important facts yet I can’t retain information that would be helpful. Perhaps my brain is just wired to prefer absorbing enjoyment rather than function.

So the prompt was egg right? *makes mental note to purchase Easter eggs in the sales to top up the chocolate supplies*