chrisnelson61

~ Poetry, stories and some random words…

chrisnelson61

Tag Archives: inspiration

Honest

03 Saturday Jun 2023

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

creative, Honest, inspiration, Love, poems, poetry, verse, writing

So, I was sorting through various folders and random stuff which, despite my best efforts and the ‘overly helpful’ aspects of modern technology, appeared to have a variety of homes. The plan was to get things a little more organised and all in one place should I need to access them.

Anyway, during the process I discovered a folder full of poetry that I had put aside for ‘future publication’ (which may, or may not, still take place at some point in the future – (need to re-read a bit first!)). Many/most of these pieces I have posted here in the past, although, looking back, I was amazed to find that the ones I checked had been uploaded six years ago. The upshot is that I have decided (for better or for worse) to give some of them a re-airing, so, over the next few weeks, I will be posting several of these pieces which I hope that you will enjoy. And please forgive/bear with me if you have read them before.

The first offering then:

Honest

And when they made love

The birds fell silent

On the bough

And hung their heads in shame,

And dawn was just a

Wish upon the lips

Of others

Slow-time moving limbs,

And hands and fingers

Dance ethereal

On cloud swept

Melodies unwritten,

All reason lost to

Emotions more real

Than sounded

Words that die in cold light,

And when they made love

The ground did shiver

Temples fall

Beneath something more honest.

Waiting

04 Saturday Mar 2023

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

creative, inspiration, loss, poems, poetry, Promises, Signs, verse, Voices, Wiating, writing

Waiting.

Waiting, waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting for the reward,

The prize that lingers

Beyond the next corner,

Behind the door.

Waiting for the call,

The voice of the heart,

Calling from the darkness,

Promises of more.

Waiting for the movement,

The sign for us to go,

A motion from outside,

The silent, secret law.

Waiting for the floor,

To open up beneath,

To feel its welcome breath,

The silence of its roar.

Waiting for the angels,

To spread their wings around,

Reveal a their wonders,

And open up the door.

Waiting. 

Waiting, waiting.

Waiting. 

Silent Flight

04 Saturday Feb 2023

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

Birds, creative, Escape, hope, inspiration, poems, poetry, Silent Flight, sky, verse, writing

Silent the birds fly

Their dappled bodies blackened

In silhouette

Against the cold air

As they weave their way

Through the blue,

Through the white,

Like counters on a board

Searching for the draught 

That will pull them through

Lift them up

To soar,

Silent beaks and

Silent wings

Their presence lost amongst the flock

Awareness isn’t theirs

To be lost and found within the fold

To hold eternity in the beat

Of a wing

Or a prayer

As they glide-mark the sky

Trailing blue,

Trailing white,

In their wake.

Only You

07 Saturday Jan 2023

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

creative, inspiration, Love, Only You, poems, poetry, verse, writing

Everything is nonsense

But you:

The trinkets and the gold,

The diamonds and the dust;

The castle walls we build,

And all that turns to rust.

The words we speak so loud,

And those we bury deep;

The things we seek to waste,

And everything we keep.

The script we act each day,

The faces that we show;

Favours that we garner,

And those we keep at bay.

Pockets filled with silver,

And hearts so full of pride;

All we show to others,

That say ‘at least we tried’.

Yes, everything is nonsense,

Nothing counts in time,

Everything is nonsense,

But you.

The Wrong Story

22 Saturday Oct 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Acceptance, Communication, creative, Falling Sleet, inspiration, loss, Love, poems, poetry, The Wrong Story, Understanding, verse, writing

It was the wrong story that leapt up and out at me,

From the page that I saw behind your eyes –

Its tumbling words sang to me as if I were the one,

The only one to whom they spoke.

They wrapped themselves around me like a Winter’s evening shawl,

A warmth and comfort my insides craved,

A tale unpicked for me.

And as my mind began to weave and tangle a missive in which to grow,

My eyes closed blind to those I saw and

Nurtured futures fruitless.

I turned and spread each leaf before me reflecting as I did,

On every word that I planted there,

And every root that you pushed deep.

And only when the stems had grown and twisted every one,

About and through my aching frame,

Did my eyes, at last, loose their lustre –

And only then did I recognise that,

The story I had read was wrong.

Remember

01 Saturday Oct 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Affirmation, creative, Heart, hope, inspiration, Love, Positivity, Prose, Remember, writing

When, at the end of your wearisome day, you finally let your eyes close and you give in to sleep, you should know that you fill the thoughts of others. Somewhere, maybe in the next house, the next street or next town; maybe on the other side of the ocean or the other side of the world, you are being dreamed of. Somewhere your face fills the vision of another; your voice echoes in their ears and the touch of your skin sends shivers up their spine. The memory of you keeps someone awake, keeps someone else safe and fills someone else’s soul with hope. Your history lives in the words that someone speaks and the world that they create; touches lives that you will never know and spreads its seed to places that you could only imagine. Somewhere, as you drift away to peaceful sleep, someone remembers your love, remembers the life that you gave to them – remembers  you. So, as you let your lids shut out the world, remember that you are always loved.

Night Bus

24 Saturday Sep 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

AbeBooks, Amazon, Another Tease, Book, Book Depository, creative, Depression, hope, inspiration, loss, Love, Lulu, lyrics, music, nostalgia, Peace, poems, poetry, Prose, Publication, verse, war, writing

A short piece taken from the collection of poetry, prose and lyrics entitled ‘Another Tease’ (links at the end of the post. Enjoy!

I sat on the bus, watching the night-lit streets as they passed by like frozen, shrouded memories. The juddering, stop-start motion seemed to bring an uneasy comfort to my body, detached as it was from my consciousness. Other vehicles, heading in the opposite direction, appeared and then disappeared as if they were on some mythic quest, their headlights dull and dim below my position on the top deck of the bus, illuminating nothing but the first few steps on a journey without end. For a moment it seemed as if only they knew the direction in which to move in order to find some salvation, some respite from the pain, and yet I knew, contained within each metal box, was nothing more than one more lonely figure hoping beyond all hope that something, some miracle, would appear to snap them out of their coma.

Buildings rose up on either side of me now; giant monoliths, some pale and dark, devoid of life, tired and waiting for release, others still humming under the electric glow which gave them purpose. Their eyes stared out without seeing through the dark, and were gone again, lost to me as I moved steadily on. Their facades hung momentarily in my mind like all the faces of people I had met in my life, before fading into a sea of ashen memories. The night around me seemed to tighten its grip as, like an abandoned vessel, we sailed on.

To both the right and to the left of me roads sprouted off from the main artery down which I was travelling. They sparkled and twinkled with the hope of the newborn before even their lights were swallowed by the darkness into which, it seemed, the whole world had fallen. I shuddered as the bus lurched around a corner: not from the cold – I had long since become immune to that – but from the impending realisation that we were, at last, nearing my stop, my final destination.

And then everything was quiet, but for the pounding in my chest and the pulsing in my head. What if I were to remain on the bus? Would it eject me when it reached its destination, its point of termination, or would it show a glimmer of empathy, offer up a hand and cradle me to its heart? After all, my brain reminded me, what point was there to alighting, to leaving the bus to continue without me, if you were no longer there to welcome me home?

Another Tease – poetry, prose and lyrics

LULU

BOOK DEPOSITORY 

ABEBOOKS

ALBRIS

AMAZON

Idol

20 Saturday Aug 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Adoration, Adulation, creative, Fame, fiction, flash, Idol, Influence, inspiration, loss, Love, nostalgia, Prose, short story, story, writing

There was a time when I was your hero; your idol, your deity. It was a time when nothing could take my place – there had been nothing before me and even the thought of anything beyond me was unimaginable. I was the first thing that your eyes saw when they opened and the last picture that they held as they closed with the days end. It was a time when I filled your every waking thought and gave meaning to every moment of your life, no matter how small or fleeting. I was the star around which the planet of you revloved; I brought you light in the daytime and dreams which filled your nights with wonder, joy and promise. There was no sacrifice too small, no challenge that you would refuse with me by your side. Your blood ran with my words, my thoughts and my desires, and you took them all as your own. I was your hero, your idol, your everything.

But now, as the turning wheel has worn the threads thin, and the veil has begun to slip from your eyes, you see me with clearer sight. My face has lost its magic, its magnetic pull weaken by over-use. My words, the music that once plucked so easily at your heartstrings, has lost its tone, its melody merely a feeble imitation of what it had once appeared to be. The etched pane has cleared, as if a sea mist had lifted, and you see me now as I truly am. And you realise that I am nothing more than a man, and all that I had to say was nothing more than words; no more or no less than any other.

And the thought remains that I was once your hero, your idol, your everything. 

Something Blue – Nine Things Blue

09 Tuesday Aug 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Another Tease, Book, creative, hope, inspiration, loss, Love, Nine Things Blue, nostalgia, poems, poetry, Publication, verse, writing

A crumpled card
Seaside view,
A sapphire ring
Not quite new,
The evening dress
Never worn,
A loving note
Newly torn,
A bluebell wild
Favourite bloom,
Hanging moon that
Fades too soon,
A hidden stream
Once was known,
A star-lit night
Secrets shown,
Cool eyes bright now
Soaked with tears

Something New – I Wrote Your Name

07 Sunday Aug 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

creative, dreams, fantasy, hope, I wrote your name, inspiration, loss, Love, Memory, poems, poetry, verse, writing

I wrote your name

Upon a page

Within a book

To keep it close to me,

I locked it up

Inside a safe

Within my heart

So no-one else could see,

I wrote it with

An ink so black

Indelible 

So it would never fade, 

And kept it with

My treasure trove

Of precious gifts

Safe deep within the shade,

But then one day

I took it out

With gentle hands

And held it to the light,

And felt my eyes

As sorrow fell

Fill up with tears

As it had left my sight.

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Poetry Jay Maria Simpson

"There is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind" Virginia Woolf

Flicker of Thoughts

Love to write!

bendingtheneedle

Truth Hurts

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Published in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Near to the Knuckle, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, and Shooter magazine.

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The Humdrum Epicurean

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A home for the stories and poems that got away.

SURREALITY

BE SURREAL AND THE WORLD WILL BE A BETTER PLACE TO LIVE.

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Poetry, Photography, and Thoughts

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Stories I've Never Told...

(...and some I have)

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Dog whisperer. Storyteller. Accidental author.

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some may think I'm just a fool tilting at windmills, but maybe I'm not

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sceadugenga

words | spirit

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Writing Lostness

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The Poetic Stories of Michael33

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short stories about life

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a space cleared for sharing words well worth their share.

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poetry & prose by HLR

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What comes to me as a still, small voice in the atmosphere of daylight and evening. © Mario Savioni and Musings, 2013. Unauthorized use or duplication of this material without the consent of the author is prohibited. Small (100 words or less) excerpts or links are permitted as long as credit is given to Mario Savioni with direction to the original content. Please refrain from “reblogging” posts.

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