creative writing, haiku, original piece, poem, poetry

Haiku: Restriction

Bound by restriction

strapped to spiralling control

too fast for escape

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creative writing, Fiction, original piece, poem, poetry, writing

Winters Sky

Daisy chains stitched into her hair

rigidly pinned into a crown

each bud an honourable kill

a new chain for another battle won

no gaps, no losses

as erect as a tree

but as strong as stone

broader than any giant known

armour heavier than marble

plainer than winters sky

she swings her sword high

faster than a shooting star

and jabs it through your plates

puncturing your flesh

exploding like wildfire

decorating the ground red

birds and roses coat her helmet

tricking dying eyes to believe

they’re already in heaven

until she flicks the visor down

forcing birds to flee

petals falling from beaks

leaving weeds behind

revealing eyes as burnt as coals

you’ll screech for Lucifer’s help

creative writing, original piece, poem, poetry, writing

I Fell From the Ground and Landed in the Sky

My minds a forgotten doll

whose seams are ready to burst

as pills pop out of cottons cracks

prolonging the pounding

my heart sleeps in a dense grave

barely ringing chimes

disintegrating with every pump

wondering how many more times

my shell’s a crumbling coffin

no room to win in restriction

dust coats vision and bones are bitten

tongue can’t click conviction

my unspoken thoughts play

in opaque black silence

too tired to collect them

too hollow to try.

Too weak to push the lid

blow memories through the gap

and cry infront of strangers

maybe give directions

to find loose pins

doubting they could find a way

to stitch up the cracks in my dolls coffin.

creative writing, personal, writing, Writing Intentions

Writing Intentions: Part 2

In the past week, I have rekindled my love/hate relationship with sharing my writing online.

Sharing my work has always been weird to me. I tend to care too much about what others think. When a piece I particularly love doesn’t get as much attention as my other pieces then it can sting a bit, BUT, I am getting better at posting for me rather than whether other people will like it or not. Which I think is a thing every writer has to learn and adapt to at some point.

I’ve noticed I tend to get into a cycle of posting regularly for a week or so and then being inactive for about four months or more. I used to have writing blogs on Tumblr and I deleted them because I wasn’t consistent enough in posting which I thought was a bad thing. In truth, it’s not. This blog is mine. My writing is mine. And I only owe it to me to post what I want and when.

Some habits don’t die but I’m hoping to evole the cycle of ‘posting as much as I can in a week and then neglecting this account for months’ in to ‘posting regularly as and when and having no more than a months worth of inactivity‘. Maybe this goal is realistic or maybe it’s not but I can try, right?

I intend to not delete this blog, like I have done with my others. I’m going to use it to help me to deal with my insecurities as a writer and to encourage me to post in a pattern that suits me, rather than to prove that I have ‘finished’ content to post. Also, constantly setting up blogs and then deleting them over and over can get pretty tedious to sort out.

creative writing, original piece, poem, poetry, writing

Leading to Hope

Leaving sand behind

along with dizzy sweats

parting the waves

limbs relaxing

sinking under cold comfort

lungs aching

after sucking too much air

stars waver, wriggling blurred directions

as water knots hair

sparks so close together

sealing the gap, leading to hope

maybe lines in roads do join up

creative writing, poem, poetry, writing

Rivers Rocks

Sunlight sneaks through trees

creating gems with the river.

Birds sleep in newly made nests

comforted by woodlands subtle sounds.

Whispering leaves assures

the mermaid stretched on a rock,

that the air’s chill kisses, its caressing shivers

slyly beckoning her above ground

is how it expresses love.

With one hand she splashes water on her gills

while using the other to prod the dirt

like how a baby plays with sand.

Deers watch from a distance, silent

as the waters Princess draws lines in the land.

Her tail flaking, she closes her eyes

allowing air to stroke rebellion along her cheeks,

licking temptations along her waist –

She drops from the rock

hiding under the sun and waters diamonds

rippling back home,

mud stuck deep in her nails.

 

creative writing, original piece, poem, poetry, writing

Castaway Genes

You dug up our dreams

and offered your land

promising to provide what we craved

swearing we wouldn’t be afraid.

You led us up stairs of stars

offering a choice of candy floss clouds

promising we could ride on comets

visit the Sun and find new planets

together.

You fitted yourself behind the wheel

and told us our seats

encouraging us to listen

and to not interrupt

until you decided what to do.

But we paused too long

merry and confident

from the candy you gave

believing we could be brave.

We read the maps, found a quicker path

different to what you desired.

Flushed, you spat

and ripped up the plans

spun us away from the Sun

watching the stars prick

as we stumbled down, scratches stinging

candy floss lingering through sweet tears

the galaxy swirling above

yet your grin dominates

watching us scrape dust

away from our eyes.

Your teeth glinting, mocking

while holding a shovel

dirty and decorated with our fears.