Stuck

Stuck in a hole too scared to climb out

Uncertainty is scarier than the current pain

It’s familiar and in its own way comforting

And that one thought that returns

To reassure there is a another way out

It’s inevitable anyway why not surrender

The constant battle inside spilling out

Hurting everyone especially you

Not even the physical lashing out

The cruel things you tell yourself

You’re still not listening to the hurt

The wailing voice in your guts

The sounds that make everything churn

She doesn’t want to hurt you

She’s scared and maybe even angry

She’s impulsive and still acting out

You’ve been told so many time

Don’t reward it, ignore, ignore

It’s just attention seeking

Connection seeking sounds nicer

A more attractive frame

Choked with words that shouldn’t be said

Pressure has to be released somehow

It doesn’t have to feel so unsafe

Writing Challenge #3 Response – 4-H is the Worst

Haha his is a great response 🙂

Camelia (haiku)

Petals pink and soft

The centre gold stamen froth

Surrounded by leaves

Procrastination Poetry (published)

I should be doing study

Not writing out poetry

I’m being silly

Home (haiku)

He walked the road alone

He was not yet nearly home

Home was far away

Chess (limerick)

He once met a man online

Who he thought was terribly fine

He’s beating him a chess

His game is a mess

And I can’t think of a last line

Dancing (limerick)

There once was a boy from dancing

Who worked very hard at his prancing

He met a girl dancer

She liked him and he her

And off they would go for a twirling

Social media problems (limerick)

Online there lurk trolls in their holes

They can’t see all the hurt that befalls

Manners are all gone

No one puts their phone down

To see people fall down rabbit holes

Poodle (limerick)

I once owned a poodle named Dudeles

Whose fur looked a lot like noodles

He cost lots of money

His fur looked like honey

But he hated my poor labradoodles

Girl on a train (limerick)

I once saw a girl on a train

Who just sat and stared out at the rain

She sat there so still

It became hard to tell

Whether she’d become part of the train

Insomnia (limerick)

One night she just couldn’t sleep

She had even tried counting sheep

But they all ran away

And ate all of her hay

Making her break down and weep

Gender (limerick)

There was a child with a dilemma

They didn’t quite understand gender

It was more than a faze

It was not just a craze

They might have been both or neither

Unrequited (limerick)

There was a silly young girl

Who fell for a girl with a curl

She knew it was pointless

Telling her would be useless

But her poor head remained in a whirl

Baker (limerick)

There was a skinny old baker

Whose wife wouldn’t eat what he made her

He gave up in despair

Tried to pull out his hair

Then got a new idea and ate her

Alcoholic Pixie (limerick)

In the creek flowing out of the Hill

Lives a pixie that calls herself Jill

She has sharp little claws

Pointy teeth, deadly jaws

And makes the best bottles of swill

The Cow (limerick)

There once was a cow from Dover

Who would only eat four leaved clover

She suffers terrible stress

And her horns were a mess

The moon she would never jump over

Birds nest (limerick)

There once was a boy named Matt

Who was wearing a floppy old hat

It was awfully smelly

And a bird he’d named Nelly

Had made a fine nest where she sat

Stirrings of the Mind (response to Writing Prompt #277)

This is a very good description of my brain is sometimes when only writing can stop my thoughts buzzing. I really liked this poem Stirring of the Mind.

Directionless (response to Writing Prompt #256)

I love the structure of this poem the link is here.

Writing Challenge #1 Response

Writing Challenge #1 Response on Teara’s Thoughts

Star Wars (response to Writing Challenge #22)

They did a great job incorporating all the different genres into one short and lovely poem Star Wars.

Where? (response to Writing Challenge #18)

This is great you get such a vivid sense of the place without haveing to use sight to describe it. The other senses creat a rich picture.

Whisper

Don’t be shy for I won’t tell

I can keep a secret well

Whisper to me in my ear

So that only I can hear

Tell me all your secrets

Tell me all your tip bits

Don’t be afraid I won’t spill

I promise that I never will

Spread your wings

Spread your wings and fly away

Don’t come back again today

Let your wings carry you far

Past the moon to a distant star

You’ll be safe there despite the heat

You were made for fire not sleet

Lay your egg there where it can hatch

And where it’s safe from those who snatch

Now go before I change my mind

Don’t be the last one of your kind

Bird

Below me lies the ground

I see it as I fly

Ready am I to sing as

Daylight fills the sky

Flaws

I look at you and think

A person how beautiful, I love that you have flaws

Differences make beauty

We hate our own and love each others

Not always

But someone will love yours, just wait and see

They are not really flaws

I saw a ghost

I saw a ghost while driving

I was on my way to work

When I saw it and it saw me

As it drifted slowly by

I saw a ghost while walking

I was taking my dog with me

It saw us, my dog was indifferent

As he was busy decorating a tree

I saw a ghost while waiting

For the arrival of the train

I looked at it and it at me

It vanished with the first drop of rain

I saw a ghost while reading

I was sitting up in a tree

It drifted down behind me

To read my book with me

Autumn Ambles, another beautiful blog

Autumn Ambles is another beautiful poetry and photography blog. Both the words and images are wonderful. You should definitly go check out Bushka’s blog. Go and check it out in the above link or here is the URL.

https://autumnambles.wordpress.com/

Visions

If I saw me,

What would I see?

Would it be me?

 

Or would it be

A reflection of

What I wanted to be?

 

When I see you,

What will I see?

Will I see you?

 

Or will it be

What you wish

For me to see?

 

We see us,

What do we see?

Do we see us?

 

Or are we self created visions?

What the colours meant

I was feeling childish and petty

And I didn’t feel like telling

What the colours meant

 

They meant more than one thing

To me at least. I thought why

Should I say what they meant

 

Into consideration must me taken

The context and location

To know what they meant

 

To most they meant nothing

The colours simple pretty

And nothing by them meant

 

Or maybe they were telling

The people already knowing

What the combination meant

 

Subtle Signs

Let slip subtle signs

No one sees, OR

They pretend they HAVE

NOT seen.

Colours, words, silences

They IGNOR or miss

THEM. The signs

That could have told

A story TOGETHER.

Be open to the words

They don’t bite

THEY can’t

They’re WORDS aren’t they?

Or are they more

‘Do we need them?’

YOU ask

If THEY

Bring people together

Then why not let them

Bring ACCEPTANCE

We have a NEED

To explain, to categorise

Don’t WE

All just want to belong?

To Market

Here is a responnse to one of my prompts by nombredelapluma. Please go check out their blog.

nombredelapluma

He had never been good at striking a bargain
His mother should have known
Better than to send him to market
Never know what you’re going to get

Worried, he told himself these things,
Not wanting to be a disappointment
He had coins in his bag she said should be enough
But no candy or fluff

He wasn’t smart, he told himself, a lie
But he was strong, willing to learn and try

At the markets’ edge he met a man
Who said, catch the pig, and if you can,
He’s yours to keep, but if you fail
I get your money and the pig, tip to tail

Back at home he talked to animals
So he whispered to the pig about future meals
And shook the strangers’ hand
Who oiled the pig with a grease can

The man was surprised to watch the pig
Jump into the boy’s arms…

View original post 46 more words

Alphabetical About Yourself Poem Challenge

I got the idea for this post from Anni, her blog is Gentle Kindness and the link to her post is Writing Challenge “Alphabetical About” Yourself Poem.

Artistic in my own way

Beauty make my day

Careing about everyone

Daring to love someone

Enjoying what I’ve got

Fearing it will be hot

Growing and learning

Helping and planning

Imagining stories

Just some about fairies

Kind of a bit awkward

Like a bear, with a sword

Makes cleaning fun

Not neccessarily for everyone

Organised in some ways

Playing netball always

Quiet and very shy

Really wish to fly

Still getting lost a lot

Trying new thing in a pot

Unsure of who I am

Very sure of some

Writing is fun for me

X finding can also be

Years since I’ve been to hospital

Zero tollerence for very little

 

 

Heat Waves

Wave after wave in an endless cascade,

Starts to ease but can never quite fade.

A wave that washes over you day after day,

There’s nothing you can do and nothing to say.

You watch the reports but they tend to lie,

You even start, to stop trusting the sky.

 

It’s heat waves that keep on making you cry,

Wishing for cool is liking wishing you could fly.

Cleaning 2

Tomorrow I will clean my room,

Wash the windows and vaccume.

Pick up clothes to hang and fold,

Cleaning up makes me feel bold.

Dusting books, and sorting them,

By the authors name again.

Clearing off all the flat surfaces,

There will be more open spaces.

Get rid of things I shouldn’t keep,

Leave room to walk, work and sleep.

 

Words

Words that are so interesting and new,

They make stories come out of the blue.

Words that whisper things in your ear,

You don’t understand yet what you hear.

You taste them on you tong let them roll,

And slowly fall from your lips and toll.

Words you’ve never heard before now,

Their power leaves you wondering how.

How could you have done without them before,

These words leave you wanting to learn more.

New words that make things more succinct,

They can now be used with your instinct.

 

Writing

I feel the need to write, come like a hunger,

Then pick up a pen but then it is no longer

There. The words they have all gone away,

I chace them, wanting for them to stay.

 

Then other times I feel no need to write at all,

But feel the obligation and the words just fall,

Right out of the end of my pen or from finger tips,

But creative words rarely fall from these lips.

 

Knowing when to write is impossible for some,

Easier for others, and to some does natural come,

It can flow free or be forced, onto the white pages,

Lasting only seconds or surviving through the ages.

Stars

I’m sick of all these feelings

Their stange confusing meanings,

Wishing fun was simple again,

And I could just pick up a pen.

 

But things change, don’t they,

Unexpected feelings make you pay,

Feelings you can’t, make go away,

Moments in which you wish you could stay.

 

Wishing you didn’t have to feel,

Wishing for, a heart of steel,

Simultaneously, not feeling enough,

Maybe you shouldn’t be so tough.

 

Leaving is hard when you know,

You have got nothing to show,

Nothing to remember the moment by,

Except the stars, in the night sky.

Boxes

Confusion is all part of growing,

It comes from now knowing,

That you don’t fit in the boxes.

 

Some of the boxes are inflexible,

They make you uncomfortable,

But some have a bit of give.

 

The boxes, are inescapable,

Though some are very unstable,

And new ones can be made.

 

So don’t give up, be brave,

Find ones you’d like to save,

Or, make the new ones.

 

Cleaning

My room now resembles something vaguely functional,

A place that now feels far more manageable.

It no longer looks like a crime scene,

The floor can suddenly be seen.

My desk is clear of the piles of books,

That threatened to fall at the slightest of knocks.

But there’s still plenty to be done,

Lurking in the corners out of the sun.

When Things Go Wrong

When things go wrong, one after the other,

I start to wonder, why I bother.

But then, I remember the reason why,

Without the bad, good’s hard to spy.

What If?

What if I quit?

Threw a fit.

Had a day off.

Would it take off.

Would I give up,

Or is it enough,

To remember why,

My fingers fly,

Across the keys,

Expressing these,

Thoughts of mine,

In an untidy line,

Does anyone else…

Does anyone else, see faces in wood?

Does anyone else, feel misunderstood?

Does anyone else, feel safe in bed?

Does anyone else, call spiders Fred?

Does anyone else, see dragons in clouds?

Does anyone else, feel anxious in crowds?

Does anyone else, feel safe high in a tree?

Does anyone else, or is it just me?

Contradictions

Sometimes it’s easier to finish everything when there’s more to do.

Sometimes it makes me feel energised to run when I’m tired.

Sometimes it’s easier to keep going when it’s harder.

When I get more done when I have less time.

When I’m tired it’s hardest to sleep.

I smile when I’m really angry.

I laugh when I’m hurt.

Contraditions.

Dear Mum

You may be the only mother, that I ever had,

But you are the best, don’t worry about that.

Thank you for always, being there for me,

Even when I drive you, totally crazy.

Thank you for loving me, no matter what,

I don’t know if you know, but it really means a lot.

I’ll love you back forever, we both know that is true,

I just want to tell you, just how much, I love you.

Colds

The stages of a cold,

Are something to behold.

They go a bit like this,

They start with just a sniff.

Then you have a headache,

A sore throat and an earache.

You feel completely miserable,

But noticing people are unable.

Then you suddenly feel okay,

But your nose almost runs away.

Then suddenly everyone notices,

Your sick, giving sympathy overdoses.

I’m Tired

I’m tired of staying up late,

I’m tired of sleeping past eight.

I’m tired of uni assessments,

And ridiculous group assignments.

I’m tired of all the confusion,

I’m tired of this seclusion.

I’m tired of rushing around,

And there being too much sound.

I’m tired of missing my mates,

I’m tired of the lack of debates.

I’m tired of all the disasters,

And the ridiculously happy broadcasters.

I’m tired of living in moments,

I’m tired of missing components.

I’m tired of missing the past,

And fearing what the future will cast.

I’m tired…

Why I’m Sick of My Hair

I’m sick and tired of my hair,

I’m sick of finding it everywhere.

In the shower and sink,

In my food and my drink.

In bed tangled around my toes,

On my pillow, tickling my nose.

It wont dry in the winter,

Make me hot in summer.

My pony tail slaps me in in the face,

Makes me loose my place.

Strangles me at night,

Giving me such a fright.

Tumbles all over my work,

Why does it have to be such a jerk?

I have way too much hair,

I have more than enough to share.

I Love You

I love you like a sister,

And right now, I miss ya.

No I love you more than that,

I think but like, I don’t know what.

We’ve been best friend for ages,

And friends since the early stages.

‘Is she you’re sister?’ people say,

‘No,’ I smile and laugh and it’s okay.

If they looked closer they could see,

How different, you are, from me.

We laughed about it often before,

Spending time with you is never a bore.

I read your thoughts and you read mine,

We answer questions at the same time.

I didn’t realise how hard it’d be,

Not to see you, reg-u-lar-ly.

Rain

Rain drops, on a tin roof,

But they, are not real proof.

That the drought is now over,

That Australia will recover.

Politicians want to look the good guy,

No water restrictions needed, pigs might fly.