One bundle of life, suspended in space,
Each life going by, it's own personal case.
Wonders so amazing, from high in the sky,
It's tranquilized beauty, hypnotising the eye.
Each breath-taking sight,
Can be seen in the night.
So wherever you are,
Remember by far.
This beauty,
Our duty.
Monday, 30 April 2007
View of bangladesh
The city lies below the weighty sky
I watch while, the day passes by,
Similar people go pass and stare
I lay there with my mind bare,
Staring at the beauty,
The everlasting beauty
Day darkens to night,
That’s right
A star
So far.
I watch while, the day passes by,
Similar people go pass and stare
I lay there with my mind bare,
Staring at the beauty,
The everlasting beauty
Day darkens to night,
That’s right
A star
So far.
Sunday, 29 April 2007
stonehenge
An ancient playground of a million myths
A natural wonder as the clouds lift.
A site of unmatched mystery
And yet we know its history.
Mother natures stone tent
Without a single penny spent,
I find it strange
How times do change.
Our lives
In stone.
Carlsberger.
A natural wonder as the clouds lift.
A site of unmatched mystery
And yet we know its history.
Mother natures stone tent
Without a single penny spent,
I find it strange
How times do change.
Our lives
In stone.
Carlsberger.
Saturday, 28 April 2007
My Leyton
You'll never ever hear, look, see or find,
A car or bus leaving no sound behind.
People and people rushing by.
Birds are singing high in the sky.
Shops always are open,
With no words unspoken.
My place, my town,
My smile, my frown.
No space.
MY place.
A car or bus leaving no sound behind.
People and people rushing by.
Birds are singing high in the sky.
Shops always are open,
With no words unspoken.
My place, my town,
My smile, my frown.
No space.
MY place.
Task 2: Rhyme and Meter
You all know what RHYME is - and it will be one of the first things you encountered when reading poetry as a young child. "Twinkle twinkle little BAT, How I wonder where you're AT" etc. However, as you are going to find, it is very difficult to use rhyme effectively when writing poems of your own. Too often, the quest to find a word that rhymes ends up changing the meaning of the poem altogether - like points on a railtrack switching the train to a totally different course. However, it is a challenge that is well worth pursuing - i.e. how to find a rhyme whilst not diverting the tracks of your meaning at the same time. And it is a challenge I am setting you this week too.
But, not one to keep things TOO simple, I am also setting you another challenge - and that is to do with METER. Meter is the term to describe the rhythm of a poem - and how that rhythm is created through the number and order of all the syllables in any one line. Those of you who listen to music will know how all music has a BEAT of some sort; some music has a strong and regular beat, other music has a less clear rhythm (and so would be very hard to dance to too!) This week, you are going to be writing poetry with a very regular beat. Here is how...
The simplest type of beat (or, as it is called in poetry, FOOT) is one that goes 'dee-dum' - i.e. made up of TWO syllables, where the SECOND syllable is stressed. This type of foot is called an IAMB; and this type of meter is called IAMBIC. Here is an example of iambic verse:
I cannot write iambic verse.See how each line is written in TWO-SYLLABLE beats, with the stress (or emphasis) on the second in each pair. Try reading it with a hand clap on each stressed syllable:
My poem goes from bad to worse.
i CANnot WRITE iAMbic VERSEThis is simple, iambic meter.
my POem GOES from BAD to WORSE.
Notice also how many feet (or beats) there are in each line. Four. We call these lines tetrameters:
- 5 feet = pentameter
- 4 feet = tetrameter
- 3 feet = trimeter etc.
I can't write iambic verseIn the first line, there is one syllable MISSING:
My poetry goes from bad to worse.
I can't [***] write iambic verse.Whereas, in the second line, there is one syllable too MANY.
My poeTRY goes from bad to worse.
Right. Now for your challenge. NEXT week we are going to try to produce some SONNETS. (VERY difficult!). But, in preparation, this week we are just going to play with rhyme and meter. I would like you to write a poem which:
- uses ONLY iambic meter;
- is 10 lines long;
- begins with two 5-feet lines (i.e. pentameters)
- then has two 4-feet lines, two 3-feet lines, two 2-feet lines and, finally, two 1-foot lines.
- rhymes each pair of lines.
To help you, here is an example, although I cannot vouch for how good it will be since I am rushing it off for you right now!
View from Canary Wharf
The city snakes beneath the heavy sky,
The shadows tall, the river crawling by.
Commuters swarm; like locusts, they
Descend upon the dying day.
From high above I see
Them fighting to break free.
The dusk descends.
The chaos ends.
And time
is mine.
See what you can do, and remember:
- Lines 1-2 = rhyming, iambic pentameters
- Lines 3-4 = rhyming, iambic tetrameters
- Lines 5-6 = rhyming, iambic trimeters
- Lines 7-8 = rhyming, iambic dimeters
- Lines 9-10 = rhyming, iambic monometers.
BY FRIDAY PLEASE.
Good luck!!! :)
Friday, 27 April 2007
Meat frenzy...
Id miss the raw, bloody and slimy taste.
i was dragged away as they caught me in the act. with their big iron cuffs. i tried to bite myself free, but there'd be hardly any of my wrist left if id succeeded. i got wrestled and floored by about eight to ten swat agents. they needed extra security because of my circumstance. but how id enjoy it, to find one of them on their own on a dark night. it would satisfy my appetite. i would take his brain out with a spoon and bestow it to my stomach.
as the court case was present, i was getting names like 'sicko' or 'go to hell', but that didn't bother me, i just wanted a piece of the judge, and what he had to give me, but that all changed after the judge hit the gavel. my whole life flashed past me, like i was going to die today, but that didn't make any difference.
April 3rd 1937, 2:00 am. i was sat in the dentist chair in public, and yes, it was slow and painful. and it was shown all over the international news as a 'warning' to my brothers and sisters out there.
it was all over as i slept peacefully in my throne, but after all of that,
Id miss the raw, bloody and slimy taste.
i was dragged away as they caught me in the act. with their big iron cuffs. i tried to bite myself free, but there'd be hardly any of my wrist left if id succeeded. i got wrestled and floored by about eight to ten swat agents. they needed extra security because of my circumstance. but how id enjoy it, to find one of them on their own on a dark night. it would satisfy my appetite. i would take his brain out with a spoon and bestow it to my stomach.
as the court case was present, i was getting names like 'sicko' or 'go to hell', but that didn't bother me, i just wanted a piece of the judge, and what he had to give me, but that all changed after the judge hit the gavel. my whole life flashed past me, like i was going to die today, but that didn't make any difference.
April 3rd 1937, 2:00 am. i was sat in the dentist chair in public, and yes, it was slow and painful. and it was shown all over the international news as a 'warning' to my brothers and sisters out there.
it was all over as i slept peacefully in my throne, but after all of that,
Id miss the raw, bloody and slimy taste.
Irresistible red...
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning shepherds warning.
I think thats what triggered me. that red sky.that red sun.that red blood. i'm not like this most of the time, i swear to you, i'm normal. but just when i started to feel a little better about myself. about who i actually was. about why i was, who i am. the sky went ahead and turned its back on me as well, just like everything else in this bloody world.
There, you see?. blood. i despise that word. that is the reason i put it together with 'world' you know.i despise that word too.
Hate. it's such a powerful word, thats why i don't use it. i prefer to use less powerful words, because they remind me of myself. they remind me of the position i always seem to be in. always have been in. always will be in. at least thats what people say to me. but i don't believe them because they don't believe me.
whats wrong with finding Red irresistible? loads of people do. Not only me. They just blame me because they... well... they hate me. i know they do.
But i think thats what triggered me, the red sky.the red sun.the red blood. i just got a little exited. i was feeling a little too independent. i even sat gapping at the red from the rising sun. i knew how it made me feel. but i didn't care at the time. nobody did. until i actually done it...
I think thats what triggered me. that red sky.that red sun.that red blood. i'm not like this most of the time, i swear to you, i'm normal. but just when i started to feel a little better about myself. about who i actually was. about why i was, who i am. the sky went ahead and turned its back on me as well, just like everything else in this bloody world.
There, you see?. blood. i despise that word. that is the reason i put it together with 'world' you know.i despise that word too.
Hate. it's such a powerful word, thats why i don't use it. i prefer to use less powerful words, because they remind me of myself. they remind me of the position i always seem to be in. always have been in. always will be in. at least thats what people say to me. but i don't believe them because they don't believe me.
whats wrong with finding Red irresistible? loads of people do. Not only me. They just blame me because they... well... they hate me. i know they do.
But i think thats what triggered me, the red sky.the red sun.the red blood. i just got a little exited. i was feeling a little too independent. i even sat gapping at the red from the rising sun. i knew how it made me feel. but i didn't care at the time. nobody did. until i actually done it...
lonely me:(
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning is something I have never witnessed before. I knew today was going to be like no other. I could taste the fear around me. I knew something was going to go wrong. My life had been going too well. Something was going to go wrong. I could feel it. I could sense it. I had shivers going down my spine.
I knew something was going to happen to me, I was getting the signs the moment I woke up. I was just waiting for fait to take its course. I knew today was going to be my last. I was jus waiting. Waiting to die.
My life has always been the same: I’ve always wanted something so much I would do anything but once I got it I would unappreciate it. I guess this was my punishment. I knew he hated me. I deserved everything I got. How could I treat him like that? No wonder the angels hate me. I use to be one of them angels. Well that’s how he use to perceive me. I lost him. He doesn’t want me anymore. He wishes me dead. Today his wish is going to come true. I might aswell die now… I’m going to hell anyway. The angels don’ want me. No one wants me.
No one loves me. It’s always been me. On my own. Fending and fighting the world on my own. Well, I hated it. I hate being lonely. I knew I was ugly, I knew I was a bitch, I knew I deserved to die the moment everyone I ever loved left me. Today I was going to change my life forever.
Change it for the better. I knew I was going to be alone and lonely up in the red devil sky on my own. But it’s better than being down here without love. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be loved. I looked up to the red sky again. I could see the sign of my blood right through it. The red represented my blood. That’s how I knew I had to do it. Just to be happy. I knew the sky wanted me. So I did it. I stabbed myself. It was easy. I bled to death. Now I’m up in the red sky still alone, but atleast I have the sky.
I’m no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning is something I have never witnessed before but now I know what it was, a sign from god. A sign telling me to die. A sign relieving me from my unbearable loneliness.
I knew something was going to happen to me, I was getting the signs the moment I woke up. I was just waiting for fait to take its course. I knew today was going to be my last. I was jus waiting. Waiting to die.
My life has always been the same: I’ve always wanted something so much I would do anything but once I got it I would unappreciate it. I guess this was my punishment. I knew he hated me. I deserved everything I got. How could I treat him like that? No wonder the angels hate me. I use to be one of them angels. Well that’s how he use to perceive me. I lost him. He doesn’t want me anymore. He wishes me dead. Today his wish is going to come true. I might aswell die now… I’m going to hell anyway. The angels don’ want me. No one wants me.
No one loves me. It’s always been me. On my own. Fending and fighting the world on my own. Well, I hated it. I hate being lonely. I knew I was ugly, I knew I was a bitch, I knew I deserved to die the moment everyone I ever loved left me. Today I was going to change my life forever.
Change it for the better. I knew I was going to be alone and lonely up in the red devil sky on my own. But it’s better than being down here without love. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be loved. I looked up to the red sky again. I could see the sign of my blood right through it. The red represented my blood. That’s how I knew I had to do it. Just to be happy. I knew the sky wanted me. So I did it. I stabbed myself. It was easy. I bled to death. Now I’m up in the red sky still alone, but atleast I have the sky.
I’m no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning is something I have never witnessed before but now I know what it was, a sign from god. A sign telling me to die. A sign relieving me from my unbearable loneliness.
Im the messiah
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning shepherds warning.
If only I hadn't looked at the sky that morning, everything afterwards seemed to be similarly ominous. I spoke to God that morning, after breakfast, he didn't answer any of my questions. I was confused; Messiahs aren't supposed to be confused.
I had been the the Messiah for a few years then, since I was eight, it was my brother Joseph for a while but then he made contact with a girl, and hence lost his position as the Messiah. So, with me being the Messiah I was supposed to have all the answers, which I normally would have had , but this time I was stumped. The sky foretold evil, and the last time it had done that, god spoke. I started to ponder the seeming non-existence of the superior of late, and that thought that I'd dismissed for all these years crept reluctantly into my mindset. What if? What if this, perfect, pre-lapsarian state of mind was really a sham, a distopia where nothing is holy or godly; nothing was created, it was all natural; evolution. My inner cynicism took a breath, a long deep breath, which allowed it to reserve a permanent seat in my mentality, it had taken over.
That afternoon i made a decision, a bad decision. I staggered, weighed down by my new burden, into town. I stood at the entrance to the synagogue, and Rabbi Chaim smiled sycophantically, he ushered me in. I arrogantly positioned myself in front of the gathering and they fell silent.
' None of this is real. Adonai is a meaningless myth.'' Before i could carry on my ear was grasped and dragged out of the synagogue.
Rabbi Chaim visited me in my cell that night he told me of my ordeal to be had the next morning. He then walked off leaving only a solemn glance behind.
That morning i was awoken by the crowds outside my window. A rattle on the bars of my cell alerted me that i was to proceed to the courtyard. I arrived outside to silence, I empathised with their loss of hope. I was lifted into the cylinder of straw and placed in the middle, I looked around at the faces that still believed, they believed that what was about to happen was just. Rabbi Chaim bent to light the bottom of the straw. An unpleasant tingle ran up my legs. The inferno swarmed me, all i could see through the fire was the clouds hovering like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning shepherds warning.
If only I hadn't looked at the sky that morning, everything afterwards seemed to be similarly ominous. I spoke to God that morning, after breakfast, he didn't answer any of my questions. I was confused; Messiahs aren't supposed to be confused.
I had been the the Messiah for a few years then, since I was eight, it was my brother Joseph for a while but then he made contact with a girl, and hence lost his position as the Messiah. So, with me being the Messiah I was supposed to have all the answers, which I normally would have had , but this time I was stumped. The sky foretold evil, and the last time it had done that, god spoke. I started to ponder the seeming non-existence of the superior of late, and that thought that I'd dismissed for all these years crept reluctantly into my mindset. What if? What if this, perfect, pre-lapsarian state of mind was really a sham, a distopia where nothing is holy or godly; nothing was created, it was all natural; evolution. My inner cynicism took a breath, a long deep breath, which allowed it to reserve a permanent seat in my mentality, it had taken over.
That afternoon i made a decision, a bad decision. I staggered, weighed down by my new burden, into town. I stood at the entrance to the synagogue, and Rabbi Chaim smiled sycophantically, he ushered me in. I arrogantly positioned myself in front of the gathering and they fell silent.
' None of this is real. Adonai is a meaningless myth.'' Before i could carry on my ear was grasped and dragged out of the synagogue.
Rabbi Chaim visited me in my cell that night he told me of my ordeal to be had the next morning. He then walked off leaving only a solemn glance behind.
That morning i was awoken by the crowds outside my window. A rattle on the bars of my cell alerted me that i was to proceed to the courtyard. I arrived outside to silence, I empathised with their loss of hope. I was lifted into the cylinder of straw and placed in the middle, I looked around at the faces that still believed, they believed that what was about to happen was just. Rabbi Chaim bent to light the bottom of the straw. An unpleasant tingle ran up my legs. The inferno swarmed me, all i could see through the fire was the clouds hovering like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning shepherds warning.
A Painful Evening
"We can't just go out, we may need to rush off at anytime" explained Jean.
"Oh come on jean. It's not meant to happen yet it's due to happen in the evening. We have time to go out for a nice lunch out." persisted Anthony.
"I suppose for a little while we can. Although bearing in mind this will become the biggest day of my life, nothing can afford to go wrong."
Reluctantly Jean but on her jacket and headed towards the car and the couple drove off.
"What is with all this fog, I can barley see anything." Anthony pointed out.
"Maybe we should head back, it's getting worse."
"No no, there's no need. Moe's place is just around the bend"
The bend that Anthony thought of wasn't around the bend. The couple kept going and going.
'Ring, ring'
"uh who's that now" Anthony said. He held up the vibrating contraption
"oh you answer it, I'm driving"
"Hello, really, we're coming." The call ended. "Anthony pull over!"
"What now!"
" We're grandparents! We have a baby girl."
"Oh come on jean. It's not meant to happen yet it's due to happen in the evening. We have time to go out for a nice lunch out." persisted Anthony.
"I suppose for a little while we can. Although bearing in mind this will become the biggest day of my life, nothing can afford to go wrong."
Reluctantly Jean but on her jacket and headed towards the car and the couple drove off.
"What is with all this fog, I can barley see anything." Anthony pointed out.
"Maybe we should head back, it's getting worse."
"No no, there's no need. Moe's place is just around the bend"
The bend that Anthony thought of wasn't around the bend. The couple kept going and going.
'Ring, ring'
"uh who's that now" Anthony said. He held up the vibrating contraption
"oh you answer it, I'm driving"
"Hello, really, we're coming." The call ended. "Anthony pull over!"
"What now!"
" We're grandparents! We have a baby girl."
Isolation
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning blue sky at night. Same thing, day in day out. Just like my life except that one day that changed the rest of my life.
The alarm screamed at seven o clock but I was too busy indulging in my dreams and hit that snooze button until an even louder scream came into my room from the mouth of my mother. I woke up went to the bathroom got ready, grabbed a slice of toast off my brothers plate and off I went to another fun-filled day at school.
Reached school and went straight to registration reaching it just in time to skip detention. Sat down and started reading. Boring huh! So let me just skip a couple of hours to when I was sitting in English.
I was sitting in English listening to the loom at the front known as a teacher babble on about Romeo and Juliet and their undying love. Therefore, as usual not paying any attention I started to doodle at the back of my journal when I saw a shadow cover my drawing. The shadow was Mrs. Brown. I turned my gaze towards here and she said that the head wanted a word with me.
As soon as the class had heard the words “the head wants to see you in his office”, they all fixed their attention on me. I could feel their stares burning into my back like the rays of the sun. I swiftly turned to the door and went to the lair of Mr. Jefferson, the big head. I reached out to open the door but it opened for me and inside I saw the face of my psychiatrist. Before I could run, I felt a hand on my shoulder and it ushered me inside.
Inside I saw a flood of tears from the eyes of my mother and I knew the time had come for me to go. I saw white all around me and I just about made out a hand reaching out to hug me but I turned away. I wasn’t going to come near let alone hug a traitor. It’s not my fault I’m mentally challenged.
Confusing isn’t it. My life. One thing I cannot understand is why embarrass me by doing at school for all to see but then again us people are nothing but entertainment to them.
Outside my cage, the clouds hover like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning blue sky at night.
Thursday, 26 April 2007
Enlightenment
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning…
And a blue sky at night, well, that’s how I’ve always known it to be, but it wasn’t like that tonight, it was strangely different, like when you cook pasta and there is something missing but you just can’t quite put your finger on it. I lay there for hours looking through my sunroof puzzled; intrigued by the night sky something just wasn’t right.
As I drove bemused I began questioning everything from the sky to the road I was driving on. Paying no attention to where I was going just to were I had been nothing made any sense at all. Somehow I’m back now, were I don’t belong, but some how, I have to.
I was a quiet boy, shy, one of those keep your self to your self types, I acted like an idiot but I really questioned life and the things in it. I wouldn’t look at something and not be drawn to it; my parents said it was just how I was
I used to say “what so I’m weird” they tried everything from them talking to me themselves to getting doctors involved so I could see a psychiatrist, but poor souls it didn’t work did it. If it did they would still be here wouldn’t they. Instead of were they are now.
I killed them both you see. I needed to experience the feeling of sinking a knife so far into someone that instead of feeling the heart beat you feel the knife beat instead, to be honest it wasn’t all It cracked up to be, it was hard I had to put a lot of pressure on the knife to actually glide in. I cant even say it was worth it in the end because it wasn’t, I mean look were I am now in this disgusting place but it’s not my fault they should have sorted me out when they had the chance.
So back in this place in this place they force me to call home, I wouldn’t come back if I wasn’t tagged. I would live outside were I could question the night sky as much as I wanted.
Here in my room in this place is when I realized that I know exactly what it was, probably them two looking down on me I wished they would stop, its starting to become a nuisance starting to make me think deeper into life than I already do and that’s not the direction I want to be going in, I’m on my way out not further in.
So no, not so much evil angels not even so much as something malevolent in the red sky. I’m not a sailor but I definitely knew what that was.
And a blue sky at night, well, that’s how I’ve always known it to be, but it wasn’t like that tonight, it was strangely different, like when you cook pasta and there is something missing but you just can’t quite put your finger on it. I lay there for hours looking through my sunroof puzzled; intrigued by the night sky something just wasn’t right.
As I drove bemused I began questioning everything from the sky to the road I was driving on. Paying no attention to where I was going just to were I had been nothing made any sense at all. Somehow I’m back now, were I don’t belong, but some how, I have to.
I was a quiet boy, shy, one of those keep your self to your self types, I acted like an idiot but I really questioned life and the things in it. I wouldn’t look at something and not be drawn to it; my parents said it was just how I was
I used to say “what so I’m weird” they tried everything from them talking to me themselves to getting doctors involved so I could see a psychiatrist, but poor souls it didn’t work did it. If it did they would still be here wouldn’t they. Instead of were they are now.
I killed them both you see. I needed to experience the feeling of sinking a knife so far into someone that instead of feeling the heart beat you feel the knife beat instead, to be honest it wasn’t all It cracked up to be, it was hard I had to put a lot of pressure on the knife to actually glide in. I cant even say it was worth it in the end because it wasn’t, I mean look were I am now in this disgusting place but it’s not my fault they should have sorted me out when they had the chance.
So back in this place in this place they force me to call home, I wouldn’t come back if I wasn’t tagged. I would live outside were I could question the night sky as much as I wanted.
Here in my room in this place is when I realized that I know exactly what it was, probably them two looking down on me I wished they would stop, its starting to become a nuisance starting to make me think deeper into life than I already do and that’s not the direction I want to be going in, I’m on my way out not further in.
So no, not so much evil angels not even so much as something malevolent in the red sky. I’m not a sailor but I definitely knew what that was.
Who needs parents?
Parents who needs them? They make you, give birth to you then abandon you.After that thier job is pretty much done,well thats what my parents thought anyway.
For the first 10 years of my life i was brought up by my Grand-parents.I didnt know my real parents and when i asked my nan or grandad they always replied that mum was too young and i didnt have a dad i was forced to believe them as i didnt have reason to belive any different. my grand-parents died when i was 11 and i was left all alone in the world; with nowhere else to go had to be put in a foster home, thats when the curiousity kicked in.
When you are growing up loads of questions float in and out of your mind but not me. One had stayed there permanatley. Who were my parents? I had a mum with no name and a father who didnt exist.What i didnt realise was these questions would leave me wishing i had never asked.
In the time i spent at the foster home my growing curiosity about my identity was becoming unbearable to take and i decided to find out. Every child has there own personal file locked away in a drawer and it is strictly private,However i didnt want mine to be private. I had questions and only that file had the answers.
On a late sunday night when the home was quiet i snuck into the office with 1 goal : to get my file.The risk of getting caught by Ms Voltz (my carer) didn't scare me as i knew it was enivitable,but this was the only way.My hand quivered as it slowly moved towards the drawer. What was i hoping to find?Was i ready? These questions paced in and out of my head. I finally got the courage after 3 minutes of standing motionless to open it.I scanned through the files ,all of them were really thick with pages and pages of information when i stopped at one with just 1 piece of paper:mine! I slowly lifted it out. my eyes shifted left to right, sentance from sentance, word to word.What i read brought up the days dinner, it was unbearable, Why? Why? I heard footsteps. The light came on, Ms Voltz screamed, a loud crack echoed through the home as my head left a huge crack in the tiles.
I woke up a week later still in hospital with 3 wounds that would eventually go however what i had found out wouldn't.I said at the start who needs parents?Especially if your grandfather turns out to be your dad!
For the first 10 years of my life i was brought up by my Grand-parents.I didnt know my real parents and when i asked my nan or grandad they always replied that mum was too young and i didnt have a dad i was forced to believe them as i didnt have reason to belive any different. my grand-parents died when i was 11 and i was left all alone in the world; with nowhere else to go had to be put in a foster home, thats when the curiousity kicked in.
When you are growing up loads of questions float in and out of your mind but not me. One had stayed there permanatley. Who were my parents? I had a mum with no name and a father who didnt exist.What i didnt realise was these questions would leave me wishing i had never asked.
In the time i spent at the foster home my growing curiosity about my identity was becoming unbearable to take and i decided to find out. Every child has there own personal file locked away in a drawer and it is strictly private,However i didnt want mine to be private. I had questions and only that file had the answers.
On a late sunday night when the home was quiet i snuck into the office with 1 goal : to get my file.The risk of getting caught by Ms Voltz (my carer) didn't scare me as i knew it was enivitable,but this was the only way.My hand quivered as it slowly moved towards the drawer. What was i hoping to find?Was i ready? These questions paced in and out of my head. I finally got the courage after 3 minutes of standing motionless to open it.I scanned through the files ,all of them were really thick with pages and pages of information when i stopped at one with just 1 piece of paper:mine! I slowly lifted it out. my eyes shifted left to right, sentance from sentance, word to word.What i read brought up the days dinner, it was unbearable, Why? Why? I heard footsteps. The light came on, Ms Voltz screamed, a loud crack echoed through the home as my head left a huge crack in the tiles.
I woke up a week later still in hospital with 3 wounds that would eventually go however what i had found out wouldn't.I said at the start who needs parents?Especially if your grandfather turns out to be your dad!
Black Sky
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning...but jet black at night.
It was something about the sky.The blackness of it.As if... it influenced my dreadful actions. I didn't mean to. Not really... It was only a tap. Just a tap. She was shouting at me and i really don't like it when people shout at me, not at all. All she was saying were just false accusations.All false.I didn't do what she said, i mean, come on i would never do that to her. I don't even think he's good looking! She just got too caught up in teenage 'love' that she forgets about her friends.Best friends. They were spending far too much time together. She hardly talked to me anymore.
She shouldn't of accused me the way she did... She's wrong. She doesnt know anything. Its when she came charging towards me with eyes as fierce as hell that i switched.I switched BIG time. As i said before , it was only the slightest tap ,she's just weak. I blacked out for a few minutes after. It was only when i looked down at my bloody hands that i'd realised I'd killed her...
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning...but jet black in the night.
It was something about the sky.The blackness of it.As if... it influenced my dreadful actions. I didn't mean to. Not really... It was only a tap. Just a tap. She was shouting at me and i really don't like it when people shout at me, not at all. All she was saying were just false accusations.All false.I didn't do what she said, i mean, come on i would never do that to her. I don't even think he's good looking! She just got too caught up in teenage 'love' that she forgets about her friends.Best friends. They were spending far too much time together. She hardly talked to me anymore.
She shouldn't of accused me the way she did... She's wrong. She doesnt know anything. Its when she came charging towards me with eyes as fierce as hell that i switched.I switched BIG time. As i said before , it was only the slightest tap ,she's just weak. I blacked out for a few minutes after. It was only when i looked down at my bloody hands that i'd realised I'd killed her...
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning...but jet black in the night.
Wednesday, 25 April 2007
WHY?
Why? Why must my tortured soul be tormented more just at the thought of my heart being ripped apart? Why must they stop at nothing to ensure that I have no one or anything to comfort me and keep me from crying myself to sleep? Why will I promise myself to be brave and to get through these untimely situations, keeping in mind I will do no such thing?
They lie. One minute, it will be an ordinary day... Birds, flowers... life... And the next...? I'm sucked into a warhole of pitch darkness... unaware of all the deciet, pain and betrayal that are all eagerly awaiting me. I thought I was happy. But was I really? Was I really enjoying the laughter that dare I say... I KNEW was unreal... that was so fake... so crucial... such a lie? Why would they tell me that they did it for ME and not for THEM... when deep in my heart I knew it would've been too good to be true? I guess not. After all, it wasn't all reality, was it?
They laughed with me... So it seemed. It's all so clear now. Had I been so naive... So foolish... And so gullible to not have realised that I was the victim? They didn't want me for me. They wanted me for them. Yes, me for them, and them for my predictable, powerless and passive pain. It felt as if all the hurt had grasped it's sharp. un-cut claws through my heart... Not on all the heart though... THEY controlled the main part.
So that's it. Either way I'm trapped in my own closet... The closet that I didn't see slamming back on me... ME of all people. But what did I do wrong? What could've made them so angry... so spiteful... so vindictive? Afterall... All I did was live. As I said... DID.
So again, why, I ask? Why must I endure all this pain... This hurt... These lies...?
WHY?
They lie. One minute, it will be an ordinary day... Birds, flowers... life... And the next...? I'm sucked into a warhole of pitch darkness... unaware of all the deciet, pain and betrayal that are all eagerly awaiting me. I thought I was happy. But was I really? Was I really enjoying the laughter that dare I say... I KNEW was unreal... that was so fake... so crucial... such a lie? Why would they tell me that they did it for ME and not for THEM... when deep in my heart I knew it would've been too good to be true? I guess not. After all, it wasn't all reality, was it?
They laughed with me... So it seemed. It's all so clear now. Had I been so naive... So foolish... And so gullible to not have realised that I was the victim? They didn't want me for me. They wanted me for them. Yes, me for them, and them for my predictable, powerless and passive pain. It felt as if all the hurt had grasped it's sharp. un-cut claws through my heart... Not on all the heart though... THEY controlled the main part.
So that's it. Either way I'm trapped in my own closet... The closet that I didn't see slamming back on me... ME of all people. But what did I do wrong? What could've made them so angry... so spiteful... so vindictive? Afterall... All I did was live. As I said... DID.
So again, why, I ask? Why must I endure all this pain... This hurt... These lies...?
WHY?
Sunday, 22 April 2007
Sea of Souls
One day they’ll realise how lonely we all are in this life.
Love is life, life is love. Friends are forever, forever friends. That’s what fantasy is, not a mention of the loneliest soul.
I've never been close to someone really, they just dismiss me as another ‘know it all’. Little do they all know what intoxicating thoughts are pecking away at my tortured skull whenever they are together. None were spoken though. That would be the end of me, one word and they would give out shared signals. All a boiling hatred that sliced through the atmosphere whenever I was near.
That’s why my manifesto of dreams was certainly not an open book for them; to rip, and burn the pages of hope and acceptance until nothing but only my deep hatred was left in the form of smoke and ashes, the ashes of hope.
They’ll never understand what friendship is, a helping hand of hope, a conversation of acceptance, a returned smile. I'm not bothered though for it is too late. The sea of souls has swooped its latest member into its whirlpool of tears.
One day they’ll realise how lonely we all are in this life.
Love is life, life is love. Friends are forever, forever friends. That’s what fantasy is, not a mention of the loneliest soul.
I've never been close to someone really, they just dismiss me as another ‘know it all’. Little do they all know what intoxicating thoughts are pecking away at my tortured skull whenever they are together. None were spoken though. That would be the end of me, one word and they would give out shared signals. All a boiling hatred that sliced through the atmosphere whenever I was near.
That’s why my manifesto of dreams was certainly not an open book for them; to rip, and burn the pages of hope and acceptance until nothing but only my deep hatred was left in the form of smoke and ashes, the ashes of hope.
They’ll never understand what friendship is, a helping hand of hope, a conversation of acceptance, a returned smile. I'm not bothered though for it is too late. The sea of souls has swooped its latest member into its whirlpool of tears.
One day they’ll realise how lonely we all are in this life.
Another Day.
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning...
Another day, another beginning.
Below my broken down window was the rest of the world. Silently beginning it's passionate day of life.
I remembered the tossing and turning, feeling the sense of freedom I had, reassuring myself with all the warmest memories. That’s all I did that past night. That’s all I’d do every night. I stared at my arm, glowing red in the morning sun. My glare shifted to my bedside mirror, where I noticed the purple bruise on my shoulder, running straight down my back. Then there they were, the cold, vicious eyes glaring at the back of my head. I’d noticed them too late, they’d seen what I’d done. They’d seen my tears. I looked away, and got up. Slowly the eyes retreated, preparing themselves for the time of truth.
“Prepare yourself. The sky is empty and all hell is loose... ”. Isn’t that what she used to say? The truth she uncovered before she cowardly exited this world, before she left me, before her wish came true.
“Prepare yourself. The sky is empty and all hell is loose... ”. Isn’t that what she used to say? The truth she uncovered before she cowardly exited this world, before she left me, before her wish came true.
I stared out of the window, muttering my only thought under my breath…
The clouds are the evil angels, exposing everything malevolent in the red from the deadly sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at another morning...
Red
Red
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I’m no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning…like the blood that spews out my veins.
Watching the blood coming out my arm is just about the only thing that gave me control. Every other hour of everyday it’s him that tells me what to do, It’s him that enforces the rules; but it was also him who… he never gave me choices. I never had anymore than 1 friend. It’s name? Never thought of any… When he saw my arms he told me I needed help. As if he cared. But I listened anyway hoping that by doing so he may stop being so harsh on me. I was diagnosed with self-inflicted violence. Nothing new.
But he still didn’t give a shit. My friend came to my head, as if it had powers. And before I knew it, it was in my left hand whilst I held the phone in the other. I knew what I had to do and the next thing I knew I was sitting by his bedside in hospital; until something happened and I was told to stay outside. I saw the blood…
That rush, even the dozen doctors couldn’t stop. I sat there in laughter. Well that’s what they thought. But the silent tears were not of joy but of confusion. But by now it was too late, for I had no one to help or save neither him nor me. The last I saw was the reflection of a red blooded monster.
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I’m no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning…like the blood that spews out my veins.
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I’m no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning…like the blood that spews out my veins.
Watching the blood coming out my arm is just about the only thing that gave me control. Every other hour of everyday it’s him that tells me what to do, It’s him that enforces the rules; but it was also him who… he never gave me choices. I never had anymore than 1 friend. It’s name? Never thought of any… When he saw my arms he told me I needed help. As if he cared. But I listened anyway hoping that by doing so he may stop being so harsh on me. I was diagnosed with self-inflicted violence. Nothing new.
But he still didn’t give a shit. My friend came to my head, as if it had powers. And before I knew it, it was in my left hand whilst I held the phone in the other. I knew what I had to do and the next thing I knew I was sitting by his bedside in hospital; until something happened and I was told to stay outside. I saw the blood…
That rush, even the dozen doctors couldn’t stop. I sat there in laughter. Well that’s what they thought. But the silent tears were not of joy but of confusion. But by now it was too late, for I had no one to help or save neither him nor me. The last I saw was the reflection of a red blooded monster.
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I’m no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning…like the blood that spews out my veins.
Saturday, 21 April 2007
Task 1: Back where I started
For this week's task - and your first on the blog - I would like you to experiment with a cyclical narrative structure. Below is a slightly amended version of the short story I showed you in class, which I wrote for a Y11 class a couple of years ago. As you can see, one of the rules I set myself was that I was going to begin and end with the same few sentences; as for how I achieved this (effectively and originally), well that was the challenge.
Your task is to write a short narrative which does exactly that. It must begin and end in the same (or ALMOST the same) way. And to make it easier, I am going to give you your opening (and therefore your conclusion too). The rest is up to you...
The clouds hovered like evil angels, something malevolent in the red from the rising sun. I'm no sailor, but the adage holds firm: red sky at morning...And to help you some more, here is the piece I showed you in class:
I’m not waving goodbye to anybody. There isn’t any point. They aren’t interested in me really anyway; they are here for themselves.Any questions, or if you are unsure in ANY way about how to use this blog or complete this task, just email me and I will explain. Good luck!
Why did she have to go? How could she leave us behind? What did she think I was going to do without her? That’s all that is going through their heads; not a thought for me.
They never really liked me, to tell the truth. Nothing violent, just a cold, simmering antipathy which trickled between us whenever I was around. They never said as much. Oh, no, that would have been too honest. Why tell someone what you feel when you can insinuate as much through a look, a sigh, a casual avoidance? Their bodies said, “Please steer clear of us. There’s something about you that’s not normal. ‘Not normal’ scares us. So leave us alone.”
Of course, when I told anyone about this, they thought I was mad. Paranoia; that’s what my teachers said. “That girl, she thinks the whole world is against her, when no one’s done anything!” “I’m tired of telling her this.” “Why can’t she just get on top of life, rather than almost asking life to get on top of her?” They grew tired of the girl who they heard crying wolf, even though, all the time, the wolf’s teeth were gnawing away at her soul.
Look: there are the girls themselves. One of them is even crying. Real tears chasing down her icy cheeks. I don’t feel sorry for her. I know you’ll think me just as cold, but I don’t. You didn’t see her with her heel on my forehead, or my torn hair in her claws. It wasn’t her crying then, I can assure you.
The pipes were stronger than I thought. I’d studied them for weeks, but still a part of me wasn’t sure. They will snap. The changing rooms will flood. The teachers will come running. And paranoia will be scooped up again. What on earth do you think you were playing at? What were you thinking? You could have killed yourself!
There was no flood, though. Metal proved more reliable than flesh and bone; and stronger too. It was my neck that snapped. A clean break. Quick too. I swear I could hear it, but maybe I’m wrong.
So I’m not waving goodbye to anybody. There isn’t any point. They aren’t interested in me really anyway; they are here for themselves.
Welcome to WORDVOODOO
As you have seen in our recent English lessons, I am particularly passionate about using language in imaginative ways – harnessing the true power of words to take your reader deep into a world of your creation, with all the emotional immersion that will involve. Or, in other words, using language to cast a spell: wordvoodoo.
This is the principle behind the wordvoodoo blog. It is a place where all of you can try out your ‘spells’ for the rest of you to read and assess. Each week, I will set you a new task, and you will be expected to produce a piece of writing in response (maximum 400 words, but can be much shorter). The emphasis should be on experimentation – with language, genre, form… everything, really! Try out new ways of using language, pursuing your wordvoodoo in new directions all the time.
However, don’t be fooled into thinking that I am looking for complexity. Good writing does NOT necessarily use polysyllabic, obscure vocabulary, any more than it uses long, convoluted sentences. It can be sparse, simple, succinct. What distinguishes it is that it will be both DELIBERATE (i.e. everything is done for a reason) and ORIGINAL (i.e. you are not, even subconsciously, copying ideas from elsewhere). Allow clichés or clumsiness to stray into your creative cauldron, and wordvoodoo just won’t occur.
I am working hard to enlist some professional writers to join the blog themselves every now and then, and hope to manage that by September. But it will be increasingly likely the more quality work you all post there in the meantime. So get conjuring straight away. And, just as importantly, get commenting on what others have written. Don’t be cruel, but feel free to offer a critique – on what works well and what could have been different. After all, this is how you will all improve.
This blog is now open. Register now, get started today, and let the magic begin…
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