Second

My last 'poem' of NaPoWriMo- I shall probably be updating it with 1 or 2 more.

I you can guess what it's based on- I will be so, so happy!

Second

Hatred's timelessness' giver, and not a million seconds, 
Dull as rising petals, impoverish hatred.
We lose a second apart, save it on weeds 
and beer, and not on the underground in winter or a rocky mountain.

For a single hour we punch; my skin
Like rubbish in the sky; the Beggar darkness 
Keeping your torso grey. Timelessness speeds up, for somewhere else 
We are homeless, getting hit by the daytime

So all things bright will start this opaque second, 
All coals hide their darkness from the donor's dryness.
Set down by the banknote at your toe, 
every empty stage and dirty floor omit you more, invisible than

Somewhere else. Yesterday.Timelessness loves hatred, doesn't want it rich
But hatred spins straw, straw, straw from gold.

Clueless

'If you smile when no one else is around, you really mean it.'

Clueless

She said, she said, as she combed back her hair:
How do you know when you're smiling, she said?

She said, she said, it's too much today,

Every time I have smiled, I'VE BEEN LYING,

She said.

Noir

Noir

It's the emptiness I feel
When you're done with me

It's the threatening face
When you look at me.

It's the pain that there is
When they talk about my dreams.

It's the colour of the world
On days like these.

It's the glare you think
You can shoot at me.

It's the morning I wake up
Early.

It's what my life would be
Without the Kaiser Chiefs;

Noir, j'en ai trop,
You're smothering me.

Noir.

Escape

Escape

We cross the road, and we're holding hands.

When I'm sad, I seek my solace in you.
                            *


We meet at a party, and you seem acceptable.

We talk about music under the stars.

We lay on the grass, and I throw petals at you.

I see you again, some two days later.

An orange bus takes us, far, far, away.

For the first time, I survive, I find I can live with you.

Together, we walk towards the castle.

We play a game, and I cheat, but you win.

A garden of flowers is where we sit.

Is this it?

European Dream

European Dream

Europe's body's smell

Is yours.

I travel all around.

I float through Bruges; I swig through Brussels.

But just like, in Amsterdam, they infused the food with lavender;

So my days and my trip are infused by you.

And when I see a smile I think of you

And the whole of Holland smells like you

And when I'm sad sometimes I sink like you

And, in the morning, when I wake up,

I've dreamed of

You.

You really are my

European dream.

And I see you

And I see you

And I see you
And I see
An intoxicating scent of flowers
A wall of Warwick's ancient castle
And I see you.

Love Hurts

Love Hurts

Oh tell me about Why love hurts
And tell me about why love works.
Does it do either?

As a little girl drowns in 
the snowflakes
So I am lost.
But white; white;
white as the darkest flower.

Untitled Poem

Untitled

I know you wanted me
But I didn't want you
All I can say was true is
I know you wanted me.
We tried to make it big
Not much that we could do.
I know you wanted me.
But I didn't want you.

Holding on to a Whale.

Taken from a line by 'Sarah Ferri', an amazing Flemish singer. I cannot praise her enough.

Holding on to a Whale

If I may
I will
Cling to your
Silent, pretentious skin.
Grey.
As the salt that I have craved
Calls down at me
So sinks the sea
Italy.

The First Cut

About my super-exciting accident involving a glass jar.

The First Cut

Smash.
Spill.
I see red- is it blood
Or spilled sauce?
Pain.
Flashing lights.
It hurts.
Love.
Love.
I love you.

Maybe

Maybe

Maybe
Your secrets
All just evoke me
You'll sit me down
We'll see where it leads
Maybe.

Maybe 
I'll drown
In your green, in your brown
In a dream
Of a frown
Maybe

Maybe

Maybe
I'm in love
With you.

We can dance
Through our future
Blue, brown + yellow.
The Virgin Express
-I'll see you in 
London!

Hopefully.

And we'll sail away,
Swim, swirl, night and day
To a cloud free from rain
And pain

Maybe.

The Fire-Eater

For the next few posts, the poems are in no particular order... I cannot remember which one I wrote when :/

I have NO idea what this poem is about. Sorry.

The Fire-Eater

If I could let you grab me
By the colour red;
I'd ask for more.
Soon we'll all
Need more.
The colours of your hair
A blind
A blind over
Darkest, darkest
Eyes.

The way you fence me in
Is like, a farmer, and a sheep.
I want you.

Vikingstromba (Day 15)

My longest poem, it seems.

Vikingstromba

I will tell you a tale of three sisters
A tale of sisters three
Hortensia, Rosalina and Brunhilda;
As muscular as lasses can be.

Green-eyebrowed Hortensia ws the oldest
Liked duckies, colour and authority
Her charisma, it made her the boldest
And her pink and her yellow; she worked in Politics.

Brown (or blonde?) haired Brunhilda came next
The strongest of all; the simplest dressed;
She took on the town with her gym-drawing prowess
Down to earth, she'd lift weights to pass by the dull hours.

And last, oh the last, youthful pretty Rosalina.
When a Lord came to town, nay, he could not resist her.
Pink-haired, a great kisser, she'd flirt and she'd schmooze. 
The young Lord's moustache, made the pretty lass swoon.

Over the days the young lady found love.
Sadly, she found, he was not the only one.
Many men she met, and found, that she wanted them all
When she found a small bump, she didn't know whose it was.

The two older sisters, what were they to do?
They kept Rosie inside, and the Lord they shooed.
Hortensia ascended the government ladder.
Brunhilda, the runner, got faster and faster.

And at last Rosalina realised she'd been wrong
When her offspring turned 2, she got her a job.
A CEO now, she's fulfilled and she's rich;
And she loves her wee boy: everything fits!

Lost (1)

Lost (1)

With your trap, you lure me in

Every single time.

Baby, you've caught me. Silenced.

Like a lamb.

Away, away.

Have you ever seen

Helplessness?

Ever been

The fish

Swimming from the mouth of the whale

The foal

Collapsing

Arse-palming the grass.

I am worse 

Than these poor animals.

I am lost.

You have me, now- Oh,

You daren't let go.

With your chocolate pit-

Me in, you suck.

Swallow my every words.

SWALLOW MY EVERY WORDS.

I am Lost.

Over

Better late than never. Night!

Over

Did you hear a loud crash?
Was it finished quite fast?
Was there brilliant bright light?
Did you feel your feet fly?

Did you run for the ground,
Something slip from your side,
Did you think you would die-
Was it over, that night?

Did you ever want me?
Are you wasting your love?
Am I missing a signal,
That you're desperate for words?

I can give you none of that.
I am a writer, I write,
And when giving comes forward
I have no words to spare.

Sorry.

Day 14- Contrasts

Day 14's poem- I will still try to post another one today, of course!

Contrasts

I am on a train that's doing
150+
As we flash by, I see
The time that it took
To build the English homes
200 years ago.

I may be sat
On the Virgin Express

But around me I see
A violent, strong history

Of Cathy, and Heathcliffe,
And Nelly, and Linton;
Of Eliza, and Janet,

and Tess.

Under the Sea (day 13)

I haven't posted in 2 days- I still wrote, though! I'm exhausted...

2 short poems, for 'today' (13)- on the same topic. Which one do you like more?

Fear Be Not Proud

You have not yet
Got me
Light; out, out, I shine
light out.
You have eaten
Flesh
My nerves are 
Gone
Around me,
Though
I see 
Love, love, love.

Under the Sea

Oh, ask me about my fear, then
Faster than panic
Death; death; Foster the view
That I reach out,
And I can Touch it.
Home- a distant place.
Can I be brave, like you-
Oh, will I survive?
Light, light; we ascend from the sea.

You want some of this, fear?
You already are me.

Not to be Trusted

Not to be Trusted

No, no, I don't want to leave home.

I'm sorry I lied to you, all year long.

My love for you is more, more than you dare think.

The family was destroyed by your dreadful decisions.

Actually, there would me no world for me without you.

I hate you and your stupid face.

Shouting means I am in pain; not you.

Only emptiness can take your place, bitch.

I couldn't care less about Politics.

What the fuck did you think you were doing?

I breathe you- like I breathe microscopic O2 particles.

La culla del mio padre

La culla del mio padre (My father's cradle).

You have fed the starving child within
Slim terra rose meats, fleshy formaggi of white
Each trip to your core infused me with life;
I let the heat and the love stroke my skin

I crossed your canals; I meandered your roads.
My Fiat road in evenings through cities of light
No darkness at all, in the middle of night
I guess I felt like I should do, for once

A culture lost, and the memories of lira-
Gaetani, Jovanotti, Salvatores, Luchetti
Placindo, Pausini, and Nanni Moretti
You didn't solve my problems, but you were still okay-
My dear Italia, 
I have thrown you away

The Music Festival

This poem is for that one person who, rain or shine, always told me when I ought to be wearing a hat- Obviously, she was always right, but I didn't listen to her, and, as this poem shows...

The Music Festival
(Forever 16)

All of the sun's heat
Encircled my body.

I collapsed.

Music pounded
My brain fizzled.

The coat that my body
Defends itself in
Burned.

Charred summer grass-
My own magic carpet.

A man grabbed my arm- 
I could feel the force.

I was the colour 
of dawn, on a stormy day-
The straps of my dress
Stabbed
At my roasted collar.
Roller coaster.

The man must have pulled me up,
-Up, up-
Onto stretched material on
Wheels.

I craved
Soft, juicy fruit
Through the channels
Of my throat.

At that moment in time,
On the very day
That
I turned Sixteen
(Teenage Dream)

I really wished

I'd worn a hat.

Remember Me (Free Version)

As an experiment, I have written the same 'story' twice- once using 'structure', and once, 'metaphoric language'- free writing. Which one do you like better?

(For Abbie)

Remember Me

My Lover Walked Away Today-
What the fuck.

Dancing colours fill the sky- pink guitars have come to play.
I am a kitchen sink. A bathroom mirror.
Grey, like the skies, I reflect starvation. Starvation doesn't reflect me- like the lies about Sexism Prevention in the Student's Union, there is enough of it, chances, every wear chances. I let myself be a Palace today
Itchy, scratchy- Hunger is much more than Inanna cane bear. In the land of Omelettes, and amputated limbs,

I am God, I surveyed from above. I fell asleep within your sleep upon me; those tools that amplify God's Little Planet
Were the black hole
Of Calcutta.

The Magic Carpet drove us, dropped us, the Emperor's Café vegetated outside of our Close Up. The lines

Tugged you away.

God's Palace awaited us- on a carpet of midnight navy Swedish Silk,

Ascension.
The Buddha of Lintgen.

Only a sledge-ride away, and, as my roots would say, HOORAY,
You look like that bitch from out of Town.

The God of Energy
Hello Hello.

I am furniture, nothing else.

Remember Me (Minimalist Version)

Remember Me

The smoky fog hung low,

The Gothic skyscrapers closed in on our love.

Uphill, up the road, away from me

You dragged yourself away.

You must be tired.

Rooted, I let the oozes of rain

Play squash against the sidewalk 

On the longest night

Within kaleidoscopic light

Amber; the heat in your hands

Navy blue; my sadness, I'm losing you.

Love, I have been told,

Is not the be all and end all 

Of this world,

And this would explain; I turned around,

And I walked away.

I could not shave your head

So I let you walk alone.

This is where the poem should end- 

A groaning, grayscale, grieving apologue.

Picture my surprise

When I'm told that love

Is happiness- 

Joy, selflessness alone-

Dance in me,

My sweetest voice,

You will seldom dance alone-

If you Remember Me,

I will carry you

And I have the world.

A Pound for a Condom

 Today is something VERY different- I have followed the style of Abbie, a girl from Uni- her blog is www.cartooninacartoongraveyard.blogspot.com


 A Pound for a Condom

A boat full of memories has come up from the South

I don't want to drown like its occupants. The sea the sea is not for me
Is not forever- and I want forever. Why am I still talking about the sea, when there are far more factual things to focus on- Like, for a fact, I have fallen for a fox. I have fallen for a fox,I am in lurve. His hair is red, I love the colour of his eyes, only, what colour eyes do foxes EVEN have?
But yes, oh yes, I feel it in my corpse, I love it, I know, I have fallen
There it goes! Scurry, scamper, scarper through the night, under the trees of Cannon Park.
At 1 a.m.; I spend the nights on magic clouds, I want to drink Theatre, and velvet, violet VIOLENT
Fantastic Mr. Fox so you don't want me, and there we are, we have it, 'Don't You Want Me Baby', my very own song,
I can hear it as I think of mass consumption, loneliness, my very own desparate cry for amore
My song scrawled out through the air that plummets through my lungs, as I scream and I express my jubilation otherwise, accordingly, and sprawling like a spider, Spiderman, perhaps, and I dream on clouds threw lonely laptop nights

Sometimes, my computer is my only friend. I want to wear a dress of bananas, and I want to speak Latin to everyone I meet, and I will dance naked in a world of paper, and I cannot stop crying, and that is a LIE, I am cancerous with grief

And about these immigrants 'my memories from the South' why o why did you have to die OH WHY it's not RIGHT LIFE IS LIFE IS LIFE IS LIFE

I bet you never fell in love with a fox, though. A fox! Scurrying, scarpering- don't you want me, baby?

Scurrying, scarpering- He runs through the shadows and the floodlights of Night.

As I dance, I crash in a working man's grip, and can you hear me? I'm filling the same function as dust fills out, it's where I always went to be, if you want to date me, don't you FUCKING roast peanuts in the sun, when you can
Buy them already roasted- we could watch all five of the Twilight films, twice, or consume each other 
Within that time.

A Day Without Social Networking Sites

A Day Without Social Networking Sites

(Also referred to as 'A Day Without Facebook')



There is a lot of space



Inside my head.


For brain waves


Conquests


And
Change.




Take it

Away!




I can't bear
to be brave.

Caroline, Maybe

The Beach Boys did 'Caroline No', the Kaiser Chiefs did 'Caroline, Yes'- I hate today's poem, but today, I have written a good old Caroline too.

Caroline, Maybe

My portrait of you

Will gleam like oil
Soft white skin,

Mahogany eyes

Purple crown.



Confident

Clever

Pretty

Petite.


You are everything
I want to be.



Casual

Perfect.

Collected

Polished shiny

You are

Everthing
I want to be


Popular.



Happy.



Dramatic.


Free.





You are
Everything

I want
To be?



I only ever



Want




To be





Me.

Green

Thank you to Paolo for the idea. This poem follows a prompt.

[Written in under 5 minutes- submitted at 11:59 p.m.]

Green 

Green is
The colour of
The Heart Chakra and thus
The colour of the essence of love.
What else?

 Fern green
The pigment of
The beautiful jumper
That my first boyfriend gave me on
Day two

Green, it
Surrounds me like
A gentle caress would
The epitomy of peace would
In dreams.

Green is
A reminder
Our earth calling our names
She says, save yourselves, my children
Each day.

When I Met You

Day 4, and I'm knackered... it could be something to do with (a fresh new bout of) anaemia. Still, I'm well excited for trying out new ideas, although it's getting hard.

This poem is dedicated to three people- a beautiful (anonymous) strawberry-blond, a gorgeous pianist with the most awesome glasses who I will probably never speak to, and a young Portuguese man who doesn't speak English.

When I Met You

When I met you,
I was a girl on the floor,
While my hair spilled like ivy
I begged you for more.

          I sought your protection
      Your beautiful charm
          I craved your soft talking
      The gold in your crown

When I met you
You were a God at a piano
I could've lived in a world
Of your features, your silence

          My conscious swelled up
      I messed up all my notes
          (I only got one song wrong
      But it felt like the world).

When I met you.

When I met you
You were a boy on the bus
You snoozed on my shoulder
And I knew it was love.

          Your face, my touch traced it 
      And I smoothed down your hat
          But the miles between us
      Won't listen to that.

Ring Road

Number 3!

NaPo (as Abbie has shortened it to) has been ever-so-slightly taking over my life- but I'm very busy with other stuff, so it's not really right.

Hence, just a quick one today- if I get it over with, perhaps tonight I can get started on a better one...

However, I like this one too. Short 'n' sweet.

Ring road

The water sparkles
Like a million
Lights.

Like the ring road 
Riding
Round Brussels
By night.

Teammate- #2

Hello!

So, miraculously, my second poem is done- unfortunately, it is a little bit rushed, as it is nearly midnight, and I still want to do something with my family.

This one's called 'Teammate'- it is inspired by the Kaiser Chiefs' song, my love for which is like the ocean, etc. It is quite an important event in my life, that I am writing about, so I feel that it at least merits the title of the song. However, I gladly blame NaPoWriMo.net- their prompt for yesterday has allowed me to do this!

Today- I went to the Belgian coast, and I saw a Harp Concert in Bruges- beautiful.

Okay, here it is.

Teammate

‘You used to be my teammate- or that’s the way it seemed...’

My inbox is empty...

You used to be my teammate- brothers on the pitch.

As teammates run to a certain goal- so

Together, we would explore

Derelict houses-

The sex in British history

As teammates run, twins, along a green field

So together,

We would go to Tesco’s (okay so perhaps it’s less romantic)

But I’d be wearing your jumpers

And our souls’ doorways would sparkle

As do those of a players

When, to an erupting crowd’s cheers,

They finally get what they want

I can still feel it now-

Like the sparks of the sprayed champagne, sweet, sticky, celebratory

On players skin,

Still wet from the match,

So you splashed me

With love

And hope

And my wishes manifesting

And the awkwardness

Of sharing a room.

Now, we’re opponents, and you've changed team.

I run at you- you run away.

I can still hear

The crowd, calling like the ocean

From the days when we still had the same friends.

Now they hiss at you- our rival. I miss our names together, though.

I will never forget, though, I my eyes pass yours

-The blue and the brown

On the sparkling pitch-

The celebration,

And  the joy,

Of love.

Aircraft

Hi! Day 1, this is exciting! And... I've done it. This is poem one.

Hopefully subsequent poems will be easier to write... and make more sense

Aircraft

A thunderous plane flashes over at night.

The pressure up there
Can turn men
Inside out.

Frozen
With fear.

Never have I ever
Been as terrified as this
In my life.