Another Stab at Poetry…

I was talking to someone recently and it made me think of this. I have also seen comments on other’s as well. I just thought I would write this as a see what happens. Some may agree with me, others may disagree. It might not even be poetry, but here it goes…

TC2_4834

You made a mistake.

 

I pole dance – as a fitness – all my muscles developed, thrived, and blossomed – I am stronger.

 

I have a boyfriend – he loves me, supports me, and reminds me I can do this – He adds to me.

 

You made a mistake when you tell me

You pole dance! Wow your boyfriend is so lucky!

I prefer to save my body for my boyfriend, but that’s up to you.

Does your boyfriend mind you doing that?

 

Here’s what you missed –

Yes, I pole dance, that makes him no luckier than he was before.

My body is for me, and I chose to share it with him, yes, it is up to me.

No, because he’s amazing, but even so, that’s not up to him.

 

Stop talking to me like I am something that is owned. I am owned by no one but myself. He is someone I choose to share myself with. And it’s none of your business.

King Arthur – Legend of the Sword

Film Review

I didn’t really want to write reviews for things anymore because I wasn’t sure if I was professional enough to write one. However, I felt this film needed, and deserves being written about. 

I literally watched this film four hours ago, and I can honestly say this film is one of the best films I have seen recently. I have watched guardians of the galaxy 2, beauty and the beast, Logan, and King Arthur this year. Between these four films only two out of the four I thoroughly enjoyed, and by the end wanted to watch for a second time. Those two films were Logan, and King Arthur Legend of the Sword. 

King Arthur Legend of the Sword was a beautiful evenly balanced visual, and audio piece of art. It never lost my interest, the script was witty, funny, and very well written, I loved every soundtrack that played so much I went straight onto amazon and bought the soundtrack, the acting was splendid, and the effects was exactly what magic should be like! 

In most king arthur stories, the sword is a “magic” sword that only one boy/man can pull out of the stone… Then does nothing… Has no significance to the rest of the story. Whereas in this film the sword was a magic tool which had in essence a will of its own. That added more to the story which I thought was so refreshing! Gave excallibur a whole new interesting level to it. 

The magic in this film was spot on, if someone has power like these stories express in their pages they should put the fear of God into people when watching it on the screen. Most films feel flimsy, but king Arthur’s effects packed a bigger punch which was satisfying to watch. 

The fight scenes were beautiful, the characters made me smile, and laugh, I thought this was a great film. 

They also built on Arthur’s character, he worked to be what he was, in his back story showed how hard he tried for it. In most films these days they just seem to automatically know how to fight and it loses its character building. This film didn’t leave any of those details out. 

I really don’t have the words, technicality, or reviewing smarts to say anymore except I enjoyed every minute of this film. Please go and watch it! 

A Dragon’s Haunting Fire

Shirtless-muscular-dragon-boy-with-wings_(1)

(This image I found on google images – It’s not mine, but the artist is very talented)

Something I have been trying out, this is just a small part of it. Please enjoy, I am continuing this on further. The title I made up on the spot, I may change it.

Sera curled her knees to her chest. It felt nice to cuddle something, even if it was herself. Her chin rested against the legs, and watched the lake that spanned the landscape ahead of her. This was a dream the landscape was too beautiful to be real. The tall trees swished green, and brown against the setting orange. The wind blew the stray strands of chocolate brown hair out of her face. It reminded her of her father’s tender comforts. He was always a gentleman with her, as well as actually gentle towards her. She missed it.

Her breath hitched, and the lump in her throat swelled until she thought she would choke if she didn’t let it out. The gorgeous scene blurred in front of her, the tears flooded down her cheeks.  Her nose sniffed in the scent of lavender. It made her think of her mother. The water works poured down her cheeks in thick streams.

A light crunch of the dry grass behind Sera alerted her to another presence. It was unusual to have someone occupy her dream space. This was a familiar dream, and she was always alone. She didn’t turn around however, the thought of someone seeing her ugly crying face was embarrassing. Then she shook herself, embarrassment in a dream?

“What happened?” the voice was deep, and smooth it felt warm to the ears. It was strange to think about, but she liked it. It was a voice she wouldn’t mind listening to all day. Did she answer that honestly? But who was this? Why did he care?

“Who are you?” she sniffled. She tried to swallow down the main sob that threatened to spill from her.

“I’m Jared…” he paused, a breath on his lips made Sera think he has something else he wanted to say. She waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t she wiped her eyes, and sniffed.

“How did you get here?” She couldn’t think of anything else to ask. She still hadn’t turned around to see what he looked like. To put a face to that delicious voice, would mean revealing her disgusting state. Red eyes, swollen from tears… Sera didn’t like that idea.

“I went to sleep” he answered matter of factly. She should have seen that coming, she was dreaming after all. Sera shrugged.

“Sounds fair, I suppose I do the same, why are you here all of a sudden?” She got there eventually. She tried to see if she could see him through the corner of her eye but he was still too far back. Was he tall? Was he old? He didn’t sound old. Jared stepped closer, she knew from the sound of the grass crumbling under his foot. He didn’t seem heavy footed.

“I’m not here all of a sudden” his reply made her stiffen, what did that mean? “I have always been dreaming of this place for years”.

“That’s not possible, I’m always having this dre… what?” Sera stumbled on her words. What did he mean by that?

“I know, I see you every night, you always sit in this spot, sometimes you even walk out to feel the water slip through your fingers” he sounds cautious, and what he says makes Sera’s heart beat pick up.

“Then why have I never noticed you before?” her tone was snappier than she had originally intended. Then again her excuse was that this was her dream surely he was a concoction of her own mind. She hadn’t even looked at him yet.

“You didn’t notice me on the first day… and I thought -…” Jared seemed to struggle to find the words. Sera looked to the lake, hoping to steal his image without turning around. “I thought you was part of the dream, it wasn’t until you started whispering to the lake about your day, and some personal stuff my brain isn’t clever enough to make up”. She couldn’t see his reflection in the lake. So, instead she bit her lip, and slowly stood up. He knew intimate things about her that weren’t meant to be shared with others… “I used to just hide whenever we were here, it was easier than trying to introduce myself to you, I was never sure how you’d react to me”. Sera couldn’t take it anymore. In one swift motion she spun on the balls of her toes. “Don’t-” Jared’s form made her gasp, and step back away from him.

“You-…” She stopped herself. Her body was in the middle of a war with herself. Fear spiked through her at first, but when her mouth opened she was almost sure that her words would be the opposite to her initial impression. He had a human form of a man. In that man Sera could make out the most gorgeous golden eyes flecked with two black wings in the irises. While the rest of him carried a shadow that had a long snout, wings, and a tail. It scaled over his skin. When she opened her mouth to speak again a hint of pain flickered in Jared’s eyes. It ate at her heart enough to make her think carefully about her next words. “You aren’t human?”. She had to fight her mouth to form the words she wanted. Words were trying to fight her. He dropped his gaze from her, and shook his head. As if that was disappointing. “You’re bea-…” She slammed her mouth closed, and cleared her throat. “Are you a figment of my imagination?”. He looked up, and locked eyes with her very carefully he spoke.

“I’m real” he replied not once breaking contact with her eyes. Wouldn’t a dream made character say that? Her next words came out easy, or well more like slipped out.

“Prove it” Wait a minute, Sera cursed her body for rebelling against her. Why did her heart skip a beat at the idea of him being real. Look at him, she scolded herself. His eyes narrowed. There was no anger that she could make out, just scrutiny. When Jared didn’t say anything she carried on. Willing her voice to cooperate. “Why did you decide to approach me now?”. His eyes widened again, his head tilted to the side. Somehow her mind painted the picture of him totally human, tilting his head just like that with the most heart throbbing smile. Stop it, she mentally shook herself.

“You was crying” his voice carried the hint of the obvious. Like it was only natural to approach her. No, she refused to be swayed that easily.

“I’ve been upset before” She sounded pouty. Damn it, why couldn’t she be a bit more sophisticated than that? When he shrugged it brought her back to the conversation.

“True, but not like this”. His reminder that she had been crying set her off again. The lump returned in her throat. She hadn’t forgotten, but he had provided a distraction she didn’t know she needed. “That wasn’t an invitation to cry” his voice was light. He had stepped closer to her, his arms braced out like he would take her into a big bear hug. But then he didn’t wrap them around her. She waited, when she looked up at him through her lashes that had clumped together. Her eyes drew an image of what his face looked like in real life, and crumbled. The sobs came, and she practically dove into his arms. They curled around her like a warm vice. It was a tight hold that made her feel secure, yet loose enough not to cause discomfort. It was the kind of hug she imagined a lover would give to her. He hushed, the soft voice was like a calming balm on a burn wound. Her body sank into him.

“Wait” she stiffened, and hopped out of his arms. “I’m sorry…”.

“No, don’t be sorry” His arms fell to his sides. “So…”.

“So…” Sera felt like kicking herself for being so touchy. The awkward silence was scratching at her insides.

“Want to talk about it?” he sounded cautious, and she could see from his eyes that he wasn’t sure how far she would allow him to step in. For a moment, she thought about it… looking at his deformed body standing in front of her. This was a dream. He claimed to be real, but…

“Want to sit with me?” He welcomed her invitation with a haunting smile that she knew would be in her memories forever. They sat together. Not a word passed their lips as they watched the still water. “What are you?” Sera broke the silence with what she was most interested in. Jared cleared his throat.

“Maybe something else” He tried to not answer that.

“No way, come on…” She pushed it, she wasn’t going to let this go.

“You won’t believe me” He ran his hand over his face. Sera didn’t respond, no if she fought he would delay. She just stared, and waited. When the silence dragged on he sighed. “Just – … Oh shit… ok – I’m… a Dragon”.

Sample Idea 2.

This is another sample idea of something that I’m thinking of making a future project. I need to edit it, and proof read it, and spellcheck it, and … yeah you get it. Basically this is the roughest, of rough draft ideas. Enjoy.

***

She walked in from work, her body drained mentally, and physically. Everything felt stuffy, and all she wanted to do was lie down on the couch. Her keys rattled against the door as it swung open. The sound echoed through the hall. The dark that lingered in the shadows felt out of balance. She ignored it though, labelling it as just lonely paranoia. Though when she stepped through the threshold of doorway the world opened out. A huge forest stood ahead of her and small village dwarfed by a castle in the background. The village was walled up, guards patrolling with bows and arrows strapped to their backs. It looked like a medieval cosplay. It was so real…
Lucrezia couldn’t pull her eyes away from it, watching as the men on the wall started pointing their fingers at her. That didn’t make sense, they didn’t know who she was, surely their arrows would be drawn to strangers?
A thundering rumbled from behind her, it made her twist slowly on her heels. A huge caramel brown breast plate of a horse passed right through her. She stepped back from the missing collision, her back hit something solid, and narrow. It made her wince until all the horses passed by her. There was roughly eight of them, all driven by men, with girls at their backs. Something seemed strange about the image she was viewing through her eyes.
The women’s clothing, all modern… white blouses, pencil skirts, jeans, and even a mini-dress designed for a holiday. One of the girls backs struck her attention more than the rest. Something about the muddy blonde hair that reached down the slender back, between square shoulders. She was wearing a vest top, and shorts that left very little the imagination. The girl didn’t even have shoes on, her feet slapped the sides of the horse as it galloped toward the village gates. The guards at the wall re-positioned themselves carefully while the gates opened. They all looked so focused. Like attacks were a common thing. The gates opened, and the riders stopped their horses for their passengers to be dropped off. Lucrezia locked eyes with the girl with the slender back. She recognised those eyes from the mirror in her bathroom. She was one of those girls, bound, and being dragged into the village. The gates began to close, the guards on top of the walls armed their bows with their arrows. They were all pointing in Lucrezia’s direction. She pushed off whatever was at her back. It only made her trip over her own feet to the ground. What she felt catching her body was not as soft as the fresh green grass implied.
An arrow passed overhead. It travelled at great speed through the air, thick, and heavy it landed in something with a thunk. The sound made Lucrezia cringe, and a large fleshy body crashed beside her. Its dead face staring at her. She screamed rolling away.
When she looked back she was in front of her house again, the concrete paving of her driveway empty of forest, and dead bodies. She glanced about herself, and noticed a neighbour rushing towards her.
Mrs Shumacker, a gentle woman with an iron will. She was in her eighties, yet walked everywhere, refused the bus, and carried more shopping bags than a fresh, healthy teenager. Her white fluffy hair swept to one side in the breeze. Her wrinkled old face came rushing over, Lucrezia couldn’t tell if she looked worried or scared. Who wouldn’t be if you had just seen your neighbour act like she had seen a ghost. She might think she had lost her mind…
“Are you alright?” she whispered, clutching Lucrezia’s arm to help her to her feet.
“Yes… yes I’m ok… Thank you” She smiled at the lovely woman. She was praying Mrs Shumacker didn’t phone the insane ward.
“What happened? I heard you scream” she wondered over to Lucrezia’s door checking inside as if someone might jump out at her at any moment. She wasn’t quite sure how to reply, if she said she had just had a vision then she would definitely be on the phone declaring her mentally unstable. She could have said she had been attacked, but there was no sign of someone breaking and entering, nor attacking her. So, she went for the most convincing, but pathetic lie she could think of.
“I slipped on the step at my door” she tried to make herself look as humiliated as possible. It wasn’t hard, Lucrezia was embarrassed by the lie. Mrs Shumacker looked sceptic, raising one eyebrow at her as if to say “Really?”. Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip trying to hide a false shame.
“What happened?” Mrs Shumacker asked her again, her voice deepening with a seriousness that could have sliced through butter… She didn’t have time as a laugh slithered across the air from the end of the driveway. It was a man… he was wearing nothing but a long black skirt that trailed behind him. His body wasn’t anything particularly shocking, just tall and average lean. He didn’t look like he worked out, nor did he look as though he over ate. Every inch of his skin however, was carved with lines, and lines of words. Lucrezia couldn’t read it from where she was, but she could tell it was really fancy old english kind of writing.
“I’ve found you” his voice croaked down her spine. She reached for Mrs Shumacker, hoping to usher the woman into her house as quickly as possible away from the strange man. “You won’t get away from my story”. He held a book in his hands. It was wide open, the ink on the pages looked like they were moving.
Lucrezia felt her heart stop for a breath of a second before the words reached out around her. She pushed Mrs Shumacker out of its reach just as the ink, like chains, wrapped around her body and pulled her into the pages of the book.

Sample Idea.

Something I have been thinking about over the weekend. There was more of it, but I kept stopping and starting not feeling the flow. So this is a sample of the starts of something. Not sure yet what it will be, but maybe I’ll figure that out later…

***

Selena, Selena Farroway was her name. It was carved into everything she owned. Now she sat infront of her dressing table, the last remaining maid brushing her dark red hair, staring into the mirror at the pendant that dangled from her neck. Somehow, the name had become a vise squeezing until her every waking moment felt choked from her. The necklace was the physical reminder. Sometimes she swore to herself that she heard it jingle just to force her to step back into her place. She was a Farroway, and as such, she had a duty to fulfill. Thanks to the force of her mother’s efforts, she would do so perfectly.
The corset around her waist shortened her breath, and pushed her breast up to make her cleavage look more appealing. She often wondered if the fashion of a bask was to show her an example of how her life was to be. The maid snagged at one of the ends of her hair, making her wince. She snapped back to reality, noticing her mother walking in to admire her well paid work. Selena looked to the maid in her mirror, and their eyes met. The two of them had an odd understanding, because of the vipor like behaviour of her mother. That snag in the hair was the maid telling her she was coming without words. To Selena’s dismay, they shared the same delicate womanly beauty, fair skin, and petite frame. The only difference that she took great pride in was her deep ocean blue eyes, they stood out against her hair.
“Oh fantastic, you look beautiful, he will be most pleased” Her forced softness made her so unnatural that Selena struggled to see why she had even decided to become a mother in the first place. Then again, she only birthed her then sucked the life out of her.
“Who is he?” the question was defiant. She felt the maid twitch mid-stroke of the brush. Her mother accepted no question, just obedience. So, for the question to have even breached the thoughts of Selena’s mind was a risk. Her mother’s eyes sharpened on her, like dagger points at the back of her neck.
“Silence, did I ask you a question.” That wasn’t something to answer, to even breath at that moment would have been a death wish. “No, good, now hurry up I want her downstairs ready for his arrival”. She clicked her fingers at the maid, and hurried out. Her long, ruffled, rouge dress rustled from the room. The tension slipped away, leaving the two of them to both sigh with relief like they had both been holding their breaths.

My Winning Bid

I wrote this last year, some of you may recognise it. I posted it on another blog I had tried, but I deleted the other blog to put it on my personal email rather than uni email. This was an idea I came up with not for “All woman power” but because I thought this is what the world may come to if silly people who have misunderstood the concept carry on the way they are. There has to be an equal balance in life. This is a short story, but I am considering making it an episodic styled story. If there is another piece I will write it. Let me know what you think.

*****

I found my heart set on him the moment I laid eyes on him. He was up for auction. Six foot five inches tall, forced into the gym every morning until late afternoon, and a healthy diet to support the body. He was magnificent, the auctioneer had clearly worked hard for this. He already had bids on him, a bidding prize … the added bonus, the winner got to name him.

£1000 my first bid. Click.

My computer is loading, a small swirling circle in the centre of my screen. It went black then my bid went through. Fabulous, I was allowed access to more photos. He has a sexy back, holds himself tall. His skin is dark caramel. I love it. His dark cropped like an army grunt, and his eyes what colour are his eyes? Are there no face shots?

My computer beeps, another bid has been made… Oh that cheeky girl, trying to outbid me, like anyone could. I’ll show them. This man is mine.

£2000 my second bid. Click.

Ah, face pictures. Yes. Awe, look at those cheek bones, and that strong square jawline. Wow, this man is gorgeous, his eyes are a dark ocean blue, so deep. This man has seen many things, the soul in his eyes echoing as eternal and powerful as the ocean. How old is this man? I am young and inexperienced; I need my first pick to wow all the girls in school. A man with experience.

My computer beeps again. Now this is getting interesting, he is a valuable prize. I will not let anyone else have this prize now. Lucky, this is a birthday gift, if this wasn’t my birthday I would have missed this beautiful opportunity…

£3000 my third bid. Click.

Hmm… his history? Interesting, he is twenty-five years old, was sent to the men’s institution of Cambridge. Lovely, how nice, so he is educated. Oh he is sporty too, was party of rugby team and he used to be part of a wall climbing group. Nice tattoo, a dragon on his back.

My computer beeps AGAIN. Come on, stop bidding, £3000 is a lot for a guy! Maybe I should stop… No way, this guy is the one I want. No way am I missing out on this. I can still go on for another couple of bids. Bitches won’t get my prize.

£4000 my fourth bid. Click. Hopefully this will cut off their chances.

Hm… he is rebellious; he has refused to perform when asked… This is interesting history… he has tried to escape numerous times. So he doesn’t like to be dominated huh? That just makes him juicier. This is my first bid, he might be tough to break, I can feel my teeth puncturing my lip, and the taste of iron sweeping over my tongue. Another beep.

£5000 my last bid. Click. This is it, If I don’t win him now then it is over.

Beep, beep, beep. Oh god, that was such a fast line of beeps. Do I even bother checking my screen now…? Argh, Let’s have a look at this abomination… I-I… I did it? Oh my god I did it! I won the bid. I have him! I run down the stairs, the adrenalin pumping through my veins. This strange high made me run down screaming excitedly at my mum. Who was currently telling her winning bid to sit with her in the living room on the couch.

The winning bid is my father, my mother’s favourite. I leap into my mother’s arms.

“I did it! I won my first bid!” I felt her wrap her arms around me, laughing at my joy.

“Well done honey! I am so happy for you! What is he like?” She asked me. I bite my lip and wince. I had unintentionally bitten into my lip.

“Does tall, dark, and handsome count as a good description?” I asked her nervously.

“Sounds very knightly, I love it, let’s clean you up before we go, your lip is bleeding” she laughed. “Favourite, pass me the first aid”. My mother’s winning bid did as he was asked without any complaints.

Soon we were on the road, heading towards the auctioneer’s warehouse. The money already transferred into the auction pockets. I pat at my cheeks and pucker my scabby lips, I want to look at least a little pretty considering how nice this many looked on my computer screen.

At the warehouse, it was in the middle of the city, women rushing here and there having their winning bids carry all of their shopping. We had parked in one of the major parking complexes required for charging up our cars.

We enter the warehouse, my heart pounding so loud it cancelled out every sound around me. I wanted this so much, I had been told about it by my mother, and her friends, by my sisters and their friends… I was the youngest and had to watch what felt like the longest before making my first ever bid. We were taken to a small office looking room with two doors and a relatively large woman sitting at the desk. She was large, and blubbery, with sausage fingers, and marshmallow legs in her way too tight skirt.

“Welcome, I believe you are my special lucky winner” She emphasised the word special, like I was the best thing to come through her door. “Not many people would have bid and kept that bid after finding out such history” she added. I cringed my mother would probably start to worry.

“What kind of history?” my mother questioned.

“It excites me, now I want my bid” I said, keeping my voice even I couldn’t afford my mum cancelling the whole thing off.  The auctioneer squealed with excitement, grabbed her door and shouted out to bring the winner. Then he came in, his ocean eyes. My new winning bid.

Fear.

I haven’t written anything for a while, except for university assessments. I feel a little bit like I have lost myself a little bit. So I thought I would test out Poetry. I’m not particularly good at poetry, actually I’m pretty sure my poetry is awful. However, it is a simple form to experiment with, and at University I can’t write what I want, my poetry on my course has to be on landscape this year. So this is something I thought of. It isn’t brilliant, and it is literally off the top of my head. This is how I feel in the middle of a panic, usually when I am out and about with the dogs. I don’t have a picture to go with this, but I’m hoping the words will paint it for me.

Fear

Open eyes see nothing ahead

silent paths remain empty

each step taken is a vise at the heart

each breath is a sighed relief.

Concrete slabs littered in waste

focus falls on routine dancing form

weaving around disregard, negligence, and ignorance

a sound pricks the ears.

Gasp, look up, nothing still.

Drum, drum, drum, drum, drum.

A vise around the heart.

Steps quicken, just get back, just get back,

the eyes catch a glimmer of nightmare

the breath stops

blood drains away heart plummets away panic is cold.

Ice cold.

Muscles tense freeze

brain trapped in a state of limbo,                     what to do!?

It’s coming. There’s no time. The body can’t move. The brain “where to go?”.

Fast, still coming, no stop!

closer! no, no please wait.

Almost here, nononononononononononoNO! Ah!

It’s here, the body unfrozen, brain “Just run”.

Too late… it’s here now.