Poetry Archive :: Did it Again

It is becoming increasingly impressive how a poem written at the start of a week ends up as being more apposite than when first written. It is almost as if life is imitating art. In this case, this is a pretty accurate representation of the balancing act that takes place between my brain and body, and that the consequences of ignoring one for the other does end up having a physical affect on my life.

I think I might go have a nap after I’ve scheduled these poems.

Did It Again

Waking again before the dawn
With mind racing, ideas unborn:
Creative need inspires the soul,
But is not helping body’s whole.

This always happens, every time
Believing everything is fine,
My creativity demands
Physical cost, out of my hands.

For days the sleep I badly need
Is sacrificed, comfort concedes
Battle to my higher functions,
Causing physical malfunctions.

These bruises, bumps and scrapes attest
Physical status is oppressed:
No need now to co-ordinate,
Make use of brain, before too late.

When finally the moment’s passed
My body’s first request, when asked
Is not for exercise we skipped
But simply for a nice, long kip.

Is It Worth It?

Today is a ‘ponder your existence’ day.

I’ve formed a lot of personal relationships over the years with people who, it must be said, seem to have little or no interest in me. The associations have, for the most part, come about from moments of brief brilliance: a chance meeting in a game, or maybe a glorious exchange via Social media. After that moment, one of two things tends to happen. That person either a) gets bored and simply vanishes or b) has a massive, almost nuclear meltdown, flounces off and is never seen again.

I seem to fall in love with the hopeless cases.

For me, the Internet is a second home. This is sometimes a bit unhealthy (and, of late, I am attempting to curb my time on Twitter because there are no longer enough hours in the day to get everything done otherwise) and is historically cyclical. Once the weather gets better I’ll be outside anyway, but for now, we’re using Social media as a means to sell ourselves. However, not a day goes by when I watch someone who used to be active and enjoyable on the platform drift into the past without a goodbye.

It can get quite depressing if one allows this romantic association to consume the rational, sensible part of brain that gets how anonymity works. Now my real name is attached to my Twitter accounts, there’s no escaping the truth of what I am, but as I’m unlikely to have to worry about being employed in a massive multinational anytime soon, having my Boss turn up to read Tweets is not a major concern. Still, honesty does matter. Today I’ve been lied to and that hurts.


Having a long memory on the Internet is useful. Remembering who was the dick and the hero, understanding the people prepared to have a conversation when you need one, the person with the best GIFs… all these things add up to the perfection of a Decent Online Experience. Of course, none of this matters one iota to the person with their own agenda, who’s just here to get a quick fix of narcissistic joy. Like all things, your experience will vary. I’m here for the long term, however, so it matters a great deal that the environment is conducive for me to survive. Therefore, you unfollow the hacked accounts, you block the obvious robots, and life goes on regardless.

Today, however, I miss the good people who went away, the ones I can’t get to be there anymore, and my friends who no longer communicate.

I think I miss them most of all.


There will now be an unscheduled deviation from experimental poetry to bring you TOP NOVEL NEWS…


I’ve exceeded 80k. I’m still not done. In terms of plot, I’m at the final location required (around which a fair amount will now transpire) but… well, the end won’t be here for a while. It may not take that many more words, but I have plans to completely rearrange what is the last lot of old/new content. Therefore, this Thursday will be an editing/confirming my timeline session plus the addition of some more key scenes. All things being equal, and assuming everything can be done that is desired this week…?

I’m hoping to say the plot’s done sometime next week.


It is odd watching my old self’s work become new again, and very satisfying. There’s also increasingly less fear at cutting out old things that don’t work and replacing them with more relevant content. Looking at the work every day, it is evolving at about the same speed that I am… not massively fast, but still good enough when placed against everything else that needs to be completed. So, the next time we talk about this, there should be completion in the air.

I’m not sure how that’s going to feel when I know I’m done, either.

Dark City

Ooh hang on, I don’t have a March Content header, lemme go fix that…

Today is all about the things that stop me doing what needs to be done. Some writers would consider them as ‘inner demons’ but they have many names: procrastination, fear, Imposter Syndrome… and the list goes on. This week, I can’t focus on completing tasks, and am limping through the week on a day by day basis. Each morning, I slowly chip away at a rapidly decreasing list of Things to Do and if by Friday that means that half the month is planned, I will probably still not be satisfied.

You really are your harshest critic.


If I use an exercise metaphor here, these are the days when you just have to do the miles. It becomes a rhythm, after a time, that is progressively easier to grasp. Call it muscle memory, simple familiarity in repetition, but the process of a daily blog post for many years has allowed the foundations of routine to grow from many different places, not simply with my writing. Putting in the words, even when you don’t want to, is not a waste of time if the next day you throw all that work away. Without the effort and impetus, nothing changes. It took me a while to grasp that intractable truth, but now I have it you can bet your life I am not letting go.


I have this slogan on a favourite, battered green t-shirt, bought for me by my husband at a cycling show. It is the reminder to me that it does not matter how long something takes to do, as long as when I start it is finished. This is the impetus to complete the Novel, to keep chipping away at entering contests, to refine my poetry technique and try new stuff like the Aesthetic Haiku. If it’s worth the time to think and plan, then it is worth the effort to complete. This has also taught a separate lesson over time; knowing when to stop something when it isn’t working.

You cannot be an expert at everything, however hard you try.

I started the J Word project as a means to learn to draw. Three months in from that start point, I’m still no closer to that goal… and it won’t happen, despite people’s assertions that it could. Ability is not holding me back. The problem, such as it is, comes from knowing that to do this well I’d have to stop writing to do so. There are simply not enough hours in the day left with everything else, and so then I have to make a choice. If asked to choose between drawing and exercise, or writing and drawing, there will only be one winner in both cases. Exercise and writing are what matter most right now. However, there is no denying the importance of the strip as a creative outlet (and stress relief) and therefore it stays… but in a different format.

This is part of the miles that needs to be done right now, so I find a way.


Therefore, I will limp my way through the week, celebrating the victories whenever they happen. Hopefully, by Friday I will be able to see the end to at least a couple of the long-term objectives on the table, and a sense of accomplishment as a result.

Whatever happens, the words will continue to make me stronger.

Poetry Archive :: True Beauty

On the flipside of our poetic juxtaposition for the week, I’m back in the land of rhyming which, for the record, I’m not a huge fan of right now. However, the number of people who inform me that unless it rhymes it’s not poetry is sufficient for an unruly mind to accept the direction being told to head in.

In the end, this also ended up as being far more personal than expected. That seems to be happening a lot of late…

True Beauty

Look closer, see what lies behind
A preconception, state of mind;
Is what you sought a truth believed,
Simply surface, vision deceived?

Single, individual’s taste,
Aesthetics constantly replaced;
This ceaseless search for perfect truth
Wrapped up in attitude and youth.

When flawless start to fade and age,
An understanding can assuage:
With time comes wisdom and true depth
Grasping, evaluating breadth.

Our clearest visual lies within,
So happiness only begins;
When apprehension is removed,
Enlightenment finally proved.

Forget the look, focus on form,
Grasp deviation from the norm:
These flaws create appearance bright
True beauty’s focus of delight.

Poetry Archive :: Beauty, True

It was one of those transition weeks for us again, moving between two themes, and so I picked a title that was interchangeable with both February and March’s directions. In this case, our Haiku focusses on the details in daisies, which are one of my favourite flowers. Hanakotoba (花言葉)  the Japanese form of the language of flowers, considers the daisy as a sign of faith.

I love them for their simplicity, order and sense of calm they instil within.

Beauty, True

Fractal perfection
Nuance of nature; tiny
Instances of joy.

Petals, stalks, stamen,
Components of brilliance
Evolution’s gift.

Beauty, defined here
As a bloom opens, beginning
Brief cycle of life.

For a joyous breath,
Life blossoms: transformation
Green to white, yellow.

Happy, this daisy
Truly unique; demonstrates
Earth’s diversity.

Poetry Archive :: Nobody But You

Love can be horrible, sometimes.

Here’s some Haiku about that.

Nobody But You

Now you have left me
Desolate: understanding,
This love is over.

All I now desire
Out of reach: estranged moments
Cold, empty feelings.

Every day, torture
Realisation; final
Line drawn, completed.

There is no return,
Our path blocked: accept failure
No future to gain.

Nobody but you
At this instant matters more:
Loss too much to bear.