3x3x3 Inspiration? (2)

Tags

3x3x3, creative, Ideas, inspiration, poetry, thoughts, writing

Watching the days Faces falling from me Realising that life Has not finished with me yet	You never stopped loving And the slightest of threads Held your dreams	Can the flowers still speak To the hearts Of the fallen?
I was always there In your dreams and hopes And fears	And I know your heart And I know your breath As it fills my lungs	I left my home To never return A soldier of a forgotten war
And when we froze We felt at last All that could have been	When you left I drowned in the silence Of the room	Racing through the amber We never caught up With the hearts that we sought

A few ideas which may (or may not) be/feel connected in some way.

Once again I’m indebted to Michael for this idea which he shared a few weeks ago here.

The Drive

Tags

Childhood, creative, fiction, flash, Mountains, mystery, night, Prose, short story, stories, story, The Drive, writing

It was dark outside of the house. The moon was doubtless looking down upon us, and the sky hung with stars, but for us all that existed was the darkness.

Our mother bundled us like rags, almost carelessly, although we knew this not to be the truth, into the back of the car. Slamming the door she moved quickly around to the driver’s side of the car and clambered in. We heard the sound of her own door closing followed by the familiar click of the seat belt in its holster. Without turning around she ordered us to fasten ours, her voice somewhere between fitful and nervous. Our compliance was unquestioning. 

Street lights passed us by like strings of diamonds dangling in the air. To me they were apples yearning to be picked, but both of us knew that this was not the time for harvesting fruit.

I watched the house lights through the window as they came and went wondering at the secrets that might lurk behind them. Did they all hold the same story as our own? Or was there a different way for lives to unfold? At first there seemed so many, more than I could, in my own small world, have imagined existed in our town. But then my view extended little further than the streets that wrapped themselves like comforting or constraining arms around our home. Perhaps the world really did spread out as far as the maps I looked at suggested? Beside me my sister sat in silence.

Soon the long rows of houses began to thin out until finally they seemed to seep away into the night and become nothing more than shadows. Now there was nothing but darkness. For a moment, as my eyes stared at my own reflection in the pane, it felt like home; at least the idea of home that I had lodged somewhere deep in my head. Behind the steering wheel our mother remained silent. I wondered if she had forgotten about my sister and me as we sat motionless behind her. Somehow I could not find the words to break the silence.

The shadows around us began to form shapes in my eyes; trees giving way to rocks which morphed slowly into mountains as we climbed towards the coastal cliffs.

March of the Atheists

Tags

faith, hatred, intolerance, lyrics, March of the Atheists, music, Piano Magic, religion, song, violence, war

March of the Atheists by Piano Magic

Not much in the way of a video but the lyrics don’t need much in the way of visuals.

Somewhat topical.

Coins on the Table

Tags

Belief, Coins on the Table, Compassion, creative, faith, Greed, Hate, loss, Love, poems, poetry, Relgion, writing

I tossed my coins upon the desk,

To see what you would do,

If you would hand them all to me,

Or maybe keep a few.

I tore my bread upon the plate,

Enough for all to share,

But when it came back round to me,

I saw that none was there.

I opened up my heart for all,

And let the blood flow free,

To watch your lips devour the red 

Leave not a drop for me.

I gave you all; your every wish,

Yet watched the bodies break,

As every footstep took the love,

And turned it all to hate.

I tossed my coins upon the desk,

To see how they would fall,

But never did I read your eye,

And think you’d take them all.

Photograph

Tags

age, creative, death, loss, Love, Memories, Memory, nostalgia, Photograph, Picture, poems, poetry, verse, writing

Old photograph,

Making tissues fall from eyes

Like veils; the reel runs

Unpacking emotions

Like holiday mementos as

One by one

The floodgates open

Drowning the future

In a death so beautiful

I can no longer swim,

Can no longer summon

Or wish for the will to fight;

Come take me now.

3 x 3 x 3 – Inspiration?

Tags

creative, inspiration, thoughts, writing

I’m indebted to Michael for this idea which he shared a couple of weeks ago here.

it’s not something that I had thought of before (so cheers, Michael) but thought I’d use it to collect some random thoughts and lines which may (or may not) be of interest/inspiration/future use.

Any comments on this would be gratefully received (probably by Michael too, although I may be being presumptuous!).

Cracks

Tags

Childhood, Control, Cracks, creative, Fear, Inertia, poems, poetry, Superstition, time, verse, writing

Don’t tread on the cracks,

She said,

As if,

By doing so,

Some other world would suck me in,

Devour my soul,

And leave me

A husk

An empty shell.

Don’t tread on the cracks,

She said,

And fear

Was planted

Grew like a choking vine within,

Across the doors,

Shut out the light

And darkness

Fell like night.

Don’t tread on the cracks,

She said,

A threat

Behind a smile,

And stolen fantasies took hold

To show me all

That would not be

Now that those cracks

Are gone.

Neither Animals or Gods

Tags

Circles, creative, Existence, Life, Neither Animals or Gods, poems, poetry, verse, writing

This existence

Through which we stumble

Between the blind spots

Neither animals

Nor yet the gods

We yearn to see

Within the corners

Of mirror reflections,

Beneath the cloaks we choose

To adopt as if to act as both

A mask

And calling card,

This existence

We choose to call

A choice

A stumbling path

An ever

Repeating

Circle.

Words of Love

Tags

creative, inspiration, Love, Love song, poems, poetry, verse, Words of Love, writing

Ok.

Enough.

No more re-posts.

By now we have all established one thing. Either:

a) My best work is behind me

b) My best is yet to come

OR c) I never could write anyway

(Lines have closed so please don’t vote as your vote won’t count and you may be charged anyway).

Enough nonsense. Time for something new.

This is a love song entitled ‘Words of Love’:

The words to describe 

My love for you

Cannot be made

By marks on paper

Or formed by shapes

Made by mouths,

They cannot be found

In books or letters

Or poems or songs

In promises or all

The hopes we wish

To come,

They live instead

Within my heart

Which beats in tune

With yours

And in the spaces 

In between

That only we can know.

Silhouettes and Shadows

Tags

creative, Longing, poems, poetry, Repost, Silhouettes and Shadows, writing

You came to me in darkness,

A landscape mapped in silhouette;

Shadowed valleys in which I bathed my eyes

Before the gentle rise took me up

To mountain’s glorious peaks,

And I felt my sightless hands reach out

Their fingers reading landscape’s contours

Like maps of Braille,

Tracing an image of perfect beauty

Behind my eyes,

And into this vision did I dive

And felt the chasm open up,

Its welcoming warmth swallowing me

Moist and tender

Embracing me like winter sheets;

And as the flowing river ran

And bore me like an infant

From silken shore to silken shore

I felt your gentle fingered touch

Hold me for a while,

And through the darkness

I could see

More clearly than before,

As two as one we swayed in time

Beneath a plum-kissed sky.