personal, writing, Writing Intentions

Writing Problems

There’s nothing more frustrating when you’ve finally got yourself into a writing routine, the determination has never been so strong and the motivation drives you with so much force you wonder where it has been hiding all your life. And then life gets in the way and your writing goals go out of the window. Which, is what has happened to me in the past month.

Trying to juggle writing with life is exhausting and I seem to be daydreaming more about writing then I do actually writing. I’m hoping to get my act together in the next few weeks and properly plan my writing days without any distractions – hopefully nothing new pops up to hinder me, as seems to be the problem these days.

Right now, so I don’t get too down about it, I’m setting myself a few short term goals;

●Make progress on the poem I’ve been asked to do (unexpectedly by someone who hates and doesn’t understand creativity so this is a proud moment for me)

● Write small pieces of poetry down when I can and any plot details

Hopefully things will be back to normal soon for me.

creative writing, original piece, poem, poetry, writing

Angels Light

Angels switch off stars

blackbirds begin a new song

chirping Sun awake

Moon moves on

soothing restless souls to sleep

owls observe from shady trees

Day and Night switching places

following the world’s slow spin

continuing our hearts duet

coaxing the solos of lonely beats

twirling with Times swirl

pulsating to the tick tock

flicking of Angels light.

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, original piece, poem, poetry, writing

Death’s Life

When Death was born Immortality died,

incurable illnesses encouraged Fear,

and humans clung to Life.

Few cradled Death willingly

and lost breath easily. Others hid from it

while some stood silently next to the cot’s bars,

torn between sickness and sympathy

for this strange creature which killed Immortality.

Death received the same tuition as the other abstracts

choosing to ignore Wisdom, yet scoffing,

and sometimes winning, against Logic.

Love’s efforts at coercion was always a disappointment,

Life refuses to be in the same room,

and the Sun shivers at its gloom.

Even Darkness, too disturbed

by the everlasting, unknown end

will not give Death a chance and be its friend.

Death’s lurking and lack of personality 

made others uneasy, so the Afterlife was fabricated;

It gladly and readily soothes

the paranoid, bitter and miserable mortals

but it’s an unknown ghost

to those indecisive individuals.  

Death won’t confirm this belief.

Why would it when it’s blamed for empty bodies 

and it’s existence is scorned?

Anger emboldens humans

to believe that Death lies.

The irony is that Death is immortal

and most of us want it to die.