The force of four walls,
Magnolia strength,
Cream deliciousness,
You push the temples of your head
with firm fingertips,
Pushing, bending
your beaten head,
to an alternative end.
To free you from your to-do,
Just for a split second.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Through my Lens
No matter which way the wind blows,
or how the snow lands on your lashes,
inside your stormy winter roads,
out here in the dust and frozen clay,
you are hell-bent on survival,
because the camera loves you.
The Carver
Wishing you all a Happy 2021!
I haven’t written in a very long time, but one of my new year goals is to do writing to a set time limit and post regularly. This is a free-style poem that I wrote today (in 15 minutes).
In racy Regency,
in desert burrows,
in city streets,
impressions, expressions, curtailed like,
paper confetti,
against a misty moon,
in racy Regency.
In concrete tunnels,
on wooden seats,
impressions, expressions,
curtailed like,
wooden puppets,
with taped up mouths,
somersaulting,
to fabled tales.
Prism Dreams
I long to roll down the river called Prism Dreams; to feel the night sky percolate the open pores of my skin. But I heard that the riverboat overturned last winter; had kicked all of the stars out of kilter, had halted the flicker of dragonfly wings under a wearisome moon. I heard that life had become receptive to the fear that had flourished in the eyes of the submerged.
@alittlebirdtweets2016
Wildfire
If you were stood here watching my eyes, you would see a reflection of what I see before me,
Of smoking clouds punching at the forever seas, crashing waves to starry heights.
You see, there is an alluding mystery that pins me to this place,
Like a song playing on loop,
Tangled hair buffering in the breeze.
There is certainty in memories repeated.
If you were here, you’d hear me humming your biker name,
Stood in clad leather, a girl in the gang, your girl called,
Wildfire.
You would tune into the fine red threads that pass over my eyeballs like road maps.
And I know that you’d know, that they are red thread highways, carved away over time,
by my desert love.
@alittlebirdtweets2015
Augusta
Sandy hair coiled coral, combing the marine; a tangled frenzy.
Barren breath like glitzy moth wings, quivering a thousand beats.
Red-raw meat humours a famished mouth,
Gone astray, hailed in the wild.
Wishing you all a frightful evening…
Hello Readers,
Well the sun is setting and the moon is brightening, on this still and autumnal Halloween in London.
I cannot think of a better day than to send out a big THANK YOU to all of my readers and followers; for their support and their likes on my blog. You all give me the encouragement to continue writing and blogging. From today, I am going to make a promise to visit and support every blog that supports mine.
So what have I been up to in the world of literature, of late?
150 Word free-writes…
I have been spending my early-morning commutes undertaking 150 word free-writes. I start the process by searching for a random image on Google and studying it for a few minutes. Then I visualise the image as I write, conjuring up whatever words and sentences come to mind. The trick to this process is to write without stopping, and to allow the mind to run wild like water. Sometimes the final piece naturally turns into a piece of prose, a poem, a character biography, a descriptive setting or a flash fiction; and the excitement lay’s in the unpredictable outcome. So why am I doing this? Well, it keeps me writing and achieving every day, which is great practice, but my ultimate goal is to create a portfolio of 150 word pieces that I can re-work into a collection of prose and poetry – which I aim to send out to publishers when dusted and polished.
Nano-Wrimo…
I have been working on the first assignment towards my Diploma in Novel Writing, which, if I am honest, has taken me too many months! But I am almost finished! The task was to create an outline of a plot, for a novel, to include all of the basic elements of novel writing. I will be submitting the assignment to the college very shortly; but I won’t be putting the plot to waste. I have decided to use it as inspiration for November 2014, 30 day Nano Wrimo (National Novel Writing Month) challenge; which starts tomorrow. I had better sharpen my pencil. I am not sure what to expect of this write, but I am going to follow the free-write process, let my imagination run wild and let the story lead. I am extremely excited to get started!
My Debut Novel…
Earlier this year I undertook the Camp Nano Wrimo ‘50,000 words in 30 days’ writing challenge. These 50,000 words became the first draft of my debut novel – a psychological thriller/horror – a story that has been growing in my mind for many years. After completing the 50,000 words, I tucked it away in a draw for several months (a bit longer than Stephen King’s recommendation of several weeks). However, this weekend, I plan to dust off the 70x A4 pages, dissect the daily writes, and place them in chapter/plot order. As you may have guessed by now, I free-write most of the time, and tend not to write in any particular order.
Reading…
I am currently a third of the way through a terrific thriller/horror novel called ‘One Door Away from Heaven’ by Dean Koontz. The novel is a great setting for this time of year; it’s dark and uneasy plot coincides nicely with glowing candle-nights. I have read 12 novels this year, which is less than the 22 books I had predicted on New Year’s Eve. However, I need to accept that some novels are a slower and longer read – and that I just need to take my time and enjoy the process. I have set myself a new goal of reading at least two chapters of a novel every day – and follow the concept that smaller steps lead to big achievements.
Well that’s it readers. I hope you have enjoyed this post and it has inspired you to continue with your projects.
Have a fantastic Halloween weekend!
Donna x
Ralf
I take a turn, my feet pace
To a double beat
Down dreary street
I’m clipped of all good fortune
My lip is blue, broken
From the devil’s punch
Blood-winced, I wail,
Like a big-mouthed lion with a repressed paw
I take a turn, my head raw
Up to my latched room
Where I subsist
In pallor
©2014.alittlebirdtweets.
5am
A mirage of a spider scales your bare back,
Peroxide bursts your plastic skin,
You cling inside a curtain, among wet tiles;
Where lime mould bleeds from bruised grout.
Mould fed the flies, now stuck in time; immobile on the ceiling from summer’s decline.
Crimson water spirals,
Drags your feet into the plug of black oblivion,
You scream to be free,
Scream not to repeat,
Repeat not; until your feet are safely entwined upon the seashell towelling bathmat.
Your mind dissipates like a phantom, like condensation,
Exhaled on a broken mirror,
You wipe your breath clear, you mutter vaguely,
Did I lock the door?
Burning Violin
Gypsy teeth gripped black roses
Dancing to Cohen;
Goodbye soaked our blue raincoats
Apocalypse
Crusty desert skies, behold!
Earth is fading now –
Human hands clamp helplessly
a little bird tweets 