And Off She Goes

This poem is one of my forgotten 'soul' pieces. And no, that title isn't as cheesy as it sounds nor have I designed an entire segment of poetry entitled "My Soul Pieces" It's just a piece that I hold close to my heart, although, in honesty got buried under layers of work. This poem was started over a friend who, at the time, was really dear to me. I'd been looking at conversations of past, and found things that almost made me cry. I've edited things of course, so instead of a friend, it's a love. It's strange how things change in the blink of an eye. Our friendship was swallowed by the shadows, that were hidden by the light. In the end, It will never get better. I miss it. Truly so. But life must move on, and so we must follow. The reason for her leaving into the trees is that I always felt trees represent life and as such she's moving off into a new life. A bit of information for you there. Enjoy.

And off she goes,
Into the trees
And, sadly, I say
I know why she leaves.

We say goodbye,
No tears, no hug
But as she leaves
My heart strings tug.

I say goodbye
And something dies
for I know that,
Inside, she cries.

We must let go
Of dreams we had
Of romance and love
But this goodbye is mad!

Wait, I cry!
Don’t leave me please
I must convince her,
This moment I must seize!

I love you I swear
with all my heart
She smiles at me sadly
Wordlessly, telling me she must depart.

And off she goes,
Into the trees
Though every bone,
In my body, disagrees.

Spontaneus Writing

My last post was a piece of spontaneous writing, and this got me
thinking that I should make a post about it. For anyone else who wishes
to write, this is a completely invaluable tool, and can work on
anything, not just poetry. Stories too. So what you need to do is the
following:

1. Find a quiet spot. Anywhere will do, your bedroom, you're kitchen, a beach, a rock on some god-forsaken island, anywhere - as long as it's quiet!
2. Make sure you bring something to write on. Preferably not your arm. Never enough space. Trust me, I've tried it. And bring a pen too. Pencil's snap far too easily. If you have decided to write on the god-forsaken island, as stated above, you might want to bring a few pens. It could be a while before you're discovered.
3. Now to the fun bit. Start using the globes in your head, alsoknown as your eyes and while you're at it use your ears too. A thing that I tend to do is sit perfectly still, and find a sense of calm within myself. From there you hear so much, that you would never hear before and see things that usually only your subconscious notices. Once you've found something you re drawn to, bring out the pen and write about it.
4. Ignore a title. It's never good, in my book, to know what you're writing about when it's meant to be spontaneous. The purpose, is defeated.
5. Start writing. And, this is the most important bit. Don't stop. Don't scrunch up the paper, score out lines, rub out things (You shouldn't be able to anyway - Read instruction 2.) or anything along those lines. Even if you write a load of gibberish (Trust me; the first 20-odd times I wrote something spontaneously it was a bunch of mixed up words).
6. Once you're finished take a look at it. If your unhappy with your writing - tough. Stick it out. Keep it somewhere. You'll see why in a second. If you are happy with it, then look it over and give it a title you deem fitting. And type it up. Save it in a folder named poetry, or something like that, on your computer.
   
7. Next time you do spontaneous writing you have two choices. You can either start something entirely new (Best to go to a new place.) or you go back to your original position, take your draft (Told you, you would need a copy) and using the same stimulus try again. Try to get it to make sense. Repeat step seven until your happy to finish step six. Then start all over again! Enjoy.
   

Fallen Demons

This is a little exercise, that I do quite frequently - spontaneous writing. Now, all spontaneous writing needs, is some time, and quiet. (Or perhaps not. As I've said before stimulus' come in all forms.) The particular basis of this poem is The Devil. Some people may protest about this, but free speech equals free typing too, I should think. I'm not a Devil worshipper if that's what you think. But belief, is a wonderful thing. And there is so many beliefs, just waiting there to be explored! I decided that people fear the Devil; so why not fear God? To anyone curious, the belief tends to be if you wish to sell your soul to Satan, you have to sign the 'contract' in blood. Anyway, I digress, spontaneous writing. So, this piece took 10 minutes, on the spot writing. Really good for the mind. Seriously so. Enjoy.

The world is falling,

The dark is calling,

The night closes in,

The fear shall win.

God has no mercy

For those of my kind.

Who pray to him daily

And grant him their mind.

The dark is rising,

The walls are dropping,

The angels have fell,

The life is hell.

Satan, is waiting,

To claim my soul

What use is a soul

In a world that's not whole?

The blood in writing

The god is fighting

The boy of life

The terror is rife.

Here I am, ready

Escaping the sun.

That burns upon my flesh.

Here I am, ready

The deed it is done

the terror begins afresh.

Cursed Gift

This next piece, was a piece I had completely forgotten about, that has now been adapted. But onto history. I had originally, tried to write a novel. My introduction to that novel is what you see below. I've lengthened it slightly. It deals with eternal life, a subject I always tend to identify with. Enjoy.

So long ago I felt such pain,

Loved ones who I’d never see again

But now, I am utterly bled

And inside myself

I am all but dead.

It’s not what it’s meant to be

This ‘gift’ that lives inside of me

For I wish with each passing dawn

That come the morning light

it shall be gone.

The world I stand in does not need
a man without a single greed
Too tired to stand, once more, and fight
and rid the world of perpetual night.
I have not lived for many years
I only exist - with many fears.
There is too much here
for one man to defend
I pray my time here
is at an end.

God forgive, my lonely soul.
Let me die and become whole.