Showing posts with label creative piece. Show all posts

As I'm reflecting on how today went, I can't help but smile to myself. A volcano of tingles spreading up my body. A smile playing on my mind,  a memory I know I will cherish for months to come. A day thay has made up for a hell of a week. A day, a moment, a person worth waiting for. Little bursts of excitement overpower me as I finish and begin each sentence. My thoughts linger as my heart leaps wondering what will happen next. It's a slow process but right now, I wouldn't change it for the world. I believe today an understanding was made, a level has been reached and we are at the peak of what could be known as perfection. A good day for all I hope!

19th January

Wednesday, 20 January 2016

I'm working on a short story and I've been writing it and well  I thought  I'd  share en exclusive small sample on my blog;

With a face as delicate as petals, eyes as pretty as love, a smile red like a rose. The beauty trapped in a glass house.

Short Story Sample

Tuesday, 17 November 2015

It's there
I can feel it
Burning a hole in my chest
Tell me you feel it too?

It electrocuted me
The first time we met
The voltage intensified
And my interest peaked

It's there
In my chest now
Tell me you feel the burning?
I can feel it

At your sight it flares
Your voice makes it roar
It's addictive
Do you have it too?

I was in the dark
Until you were introduced
Low and behold the spark
Tell me you feel it too?

Spark

Sunday, 8 November 2015

If I let you control me
What would you make me do?
If I let you effect my emotions
What would you make me feel?

If I let you in
What would you let out?
If I told you I loved you
Would you tell me too?

If I showed you my tears
What would you show me?
If I fell a part before you
Would you fix what you see?

If this works both ways
What do you expect me to do?
If I promise you everything
Would you promise me that too?

If

Friday, 30 October 2015

In this day and age it has become so popular to speak our minds. Fair enough we have the right and freedom to do so. We fought for the right to have an opinion and be able to share at free will. You can have an opinion on an event or something that has happened or what not, and that is okay. I am all up for constructive criticism, it is helpful and as a society it improves us.
 However, having an opinion on someone's opinion or appearance now that is another matter, if you have a problem with another person then that is your problem. What gives you the right to voice your mean thoughts and insult another person? You don't have that right to effect another person, especially one you haven't met before. What are you gaining by commenting on someone else's behaviour or appearance, it doesn't effect you how they look or act. You gain nothing, it's pointless. But if trying to lower someone's confidence genuinely brings you pure happiness, then I'm afraid you're in need if some some self evaluation instead of evaluating others.

A little rant kind of which was inspired my a little mean comment on another of my social media, which helped me out of my writer's block! 

Hold Your Tongue

Wednesday, 23 September 2015

In a lifetime we witness, suppress and express so many emotions, places and happenings. We are constantly thinking, feeling and living. Each day we learn and grow as human beings, we develop as individuals. We face some tough times in our journey, we look danger in the eye, and we walk on the line of risk. On our journey we meet so many people along the way, and some of them you become attached to. They become prominent, sometimes though they are suddenly unavailable, they've either been taken from us or we are no longer a part of their journey. Where does that leave us? Stuck. Feeling all types of ways, thinking all types of things. On my journey so far I have discovered maybe of the hardest things to do; letting go. It is difficult, draining and time consuming. It isn't simple, you can just flick a switch and decide to move on, damn I wish it were that simple. You have formed an attachment with someone or something, you've become fond with the feeling of their presence. You get so comfortable with them, then all of a sudden you are uncomfortable, lonely and constantly trying to find a distraction. I haven't moved on, after so long how simply can I?

Letting Go

Sunday, 20 September 2015

-CREATIVE GEORDIE PIECE- 

Tie me to a post and block my ears, I meant it as a thingy, I wasn't being serious. But here I am stark naked, my hands and feet stuck to a lamp post, with a blind fold, which not only blocks my sight but my hearing too, this is great. Michelle will be pleased... note the sarcasm pet.
This is typical, unrealistic to heck but typical. You see those stay doos in those made up movies, where the men get bladdered and the groom always ends up naked tied to lamp post, yeah that's me. It is an awkward situation, in those movies you never really see what happens next, it usually skips the scene and takes it straight to the wedding with a relieved rough looking groom turning up to his wedding half cut.
But shamelessly to say that won't be me, all I know is that I am in town center somewhere. And that it's cold, freezing cold. I would shiver but the fact that I am in awkward position it would just force me into an ever worse awkward position. God knows where the lads are, I'm freezing my bollocks off here. I think I'm sobering up, god damn it I could do with necking some vodka then my senses will be frazzled to heck and I won't feel a frickin thing.
The lads wouldn't have just left me here on ,me bill though, they are all canny. They've probably went in search of a kebab shop, mmm man I could demolish a nice greasy kebab. I'm clamming! Where are they? I wasn't supposed to be out late, well not too late. The groom needs to get beauty sleep as well.
I even try to call for help, but no one. Not a single sound. They are nutters whey they are drunk like, but surely Carl  my best mate and my best mate wouldn't leave me like this all night would he? It feels like hours I've been here, me chest is killing me.
What will Michell be doing, she's my lush bride to be. She is a stunning, I mean proper stunning, those massive huge eyes that match her bazonkas. I really love her I do, more than anything even more than a can of Carling! She's lush like. She's probably with the lasses, all having wine got there but Peter Andre on the go, it's her night out album. They will chatting and giggling, talking crap, you know what the local lasses are like, but they are mint. They are probably being all girlie, with that make up shit and pampa crap. although I can't really complain can I? They loook frickin completely gorgous.
It's getting bitter out here, I think it's getting way beyond a joke now. I better turn up tomorrow with a naught hang over and a nose like a tap, it's bad enough on a normally day never mind your wedding day like.
It's bull that I can't see or hear, I feel like a bairn. This wind is proper annoying, my arse is getting cold, I'm going to end uo getting frost bite or something.
"COME ON LADS, THIS IS TAKING THE PISS THIS IS NOW!" I yell, well I hoped I yell I felt a bit weak myself like.
I want to sleep, I am knackered. I could do with a nice cup of tea, some hob nobs and in my bed for the night. It sounds quite perfect if I do say so myself. God knows what will happen, I'm surpised the old pigs haven't been on to me. Getting is done for nudity and distruption, I like to be! Can you imagine though? Being banged up in a caged box for my wedding? Chelle will kill me, she will have he knickers in a twist, she might not even marry me.
Where are the lads, I refuse to stay here all night, this is shit...

Tie Me To A Post And Block My Ears

Saturday, 19 September 2015

Graveyard.
Death lurks everywhere, the moment you step inside your doomed. A creature waits for an innocent soul, waiting to pounce, waiting to destroy. Wait but nothing really is what it seems.
Through the day the graveyard hides the monsters that live within. The constant death prominent. Stones of memory. Stones which hold them.
No one ever dares to enter when it turns dark, they don't know what to expect. No one has ever exploited the unknown of the graveyard after Ten PM! Until now...
Her pulse rises, her head hazed as the drink takes it's course. Men grope at her, she laughs and dances, the night is well. Her birthday party, finally sixteen, too young to be out with such people.
It's only nine but she's had one drink too many, even though she is tumbling everywhere she still goes back to the bar for more. She looks far too old for her age.
She steps outside, something springs inside her, something within het commands her to move. She follows the pavement oblivious to where she is going.
The night darkens, the stars are the only lights alongside the random blinks of the tall street lights. The force pulls her to one place she stands wondering why she is standing in front of big rusted gates.
She knows what is kept behind these spider covered bars. The graveyard, she's a brave girl, scared of nothing. If anything she feels allured to the place, like every night. But this night she is actually entering.
With a hearty push the gate swings open with an annoying creak. The pavement is stoned, echoes are made as her heels clatter at her every step. She shortly gets annoyed and takes them off, throwing them aside.
She walks bare foot, the sky shines above her, she feels at peace, she feels bliss. How could a human feel such a thing in such a place?
The long pavement becomes narrow, the stones are in sight. She walks along slowly reading each one, fire flies dance around each one as if they were calling something or someone.
It isn't as scary as people think, it's peaceful and somewhat pretty, the fireflies follow her every step as if she was their queen.
A bench near a tree catches her eye, her legs suddenly feel num, a spell of dizziness tinkers at her head. She walks over, sitting down. Taking everything in, she begins to feel better.
Owls sit in the tree staring, the good night song of the mockingbird reaches out. She sits back and listens.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" A sudden voice makes her jump.
A man or what looks like a man is sitting beside her, he's not much older than she is. He is pale, transparent almost. Grey eyes with a sad smile, his silver tinted hair sticking in all directions. He has a big build but the way he is slouching makes him look small and fragile.
"Yeah it is, do you come here often?" She speaks over her nerves.
"Every night..." He says distantly staring at the ball of cheese in the sky.
"How come? Do you have a loved one buried here?" She asks curiously.
"I live here..." He doesn't meet her eyes, she doesn't get the hint and assumes he's a gate keeper.
"I don't usually come here..." She admits.
"I noticed, I would say this isn't the place for someone of your age but I'm here and I like it, although I can't leave, the only drawback of living in the graveyard." This time his eyes meet hers.
"What do you mean? Can't you just go through the gates, they aren't locked?"
He laughs, he reaches out for her hand. Instead of skin to skin contact his hand floats through hers, he's a ghost.
She smiles at him, she's not scared if anything she thinks he's beautiful. He looks at her with his eyes shimmering, his sad smile becomes happy.
This is everything she could ever want, she feels like she is herself in here and he looks awfully lonely.
"Can I join you? We can stay here forever together..." She asks, he smiles.
Fire flies surround her lifting from the ground, she floats and glows. They swish and flick against her until she black's out. She wakes up laying under a tree. She sits up, she isn't touching the leaves beneath her, she's floating.
He appears, she is now the transparent white, with grey hair and eyes. Together they shine perfectly, together as if they had been all along.
The graveyard, their graveyard. Every night they will come alive and bring the life of the nature within the graveyard with them.
Isn't it beautiful?

Graveyard

Thursday, 17 September 2015

Roads. They seem never ending, they just go on and on. How long would it take me to get to the end, and where would it take me; the edge of the earth perhaps? Maybe there is no end, it could just go on and on.
You can carry on straight ahead, go where the concrete lines want to take you, or you can stray from the main route; take the next left and maybe a right then straight on.
Signs pass in a bur, maybe sometimes we know which direction to move to, or perhaps the roads are just too stubborn to even consider directions.
Roads are like that sometimes. You're alone, maybe by choice or you've been desserted. The roads are lonely, miles into the unknown. You're either taken to somewhere new or you just carry on going; on and on.
Maybe life is like a road, sometimes you know where you're going, but a lot of the time you have no idea!

Roads

Saturday, 29 August 2015

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