Inner Turmoil

One word, a few syllables, a string of words, a simple thought of a past discourse, sets off a black inferno. A spitball of mangled infectious hatred, burning with fiery tension. A squirming molton mess of tangled lines swirling and writhing inside my chest, clawing at my throat. Like a flashover, choking and suffocating. Jaw clenched, spewing obsidian venom. Further than hatred, angry wont cut it! An intense, murderous consciousness seems more applicable. Words are powerful and yet mean nothing. Actions scream volumes.  Grief has a lifespan and gives way to peace. Death would placate, extinguish the flames.

This is Easy! Redraft

So the only one of my poems I really want to change is the first one, This is Easy! I felt like the middle verse didn't flow like the rest, it didn't have the same message, so I changed that. I changed the last verse a little too, but that got me thinking that I could, with a little effort, make it sound really really creepy. This isn't that poem.

Three poems

This is my first attempt at writing the three poems for my coursework.

This is Easy
Hah! Yeah, I remember
Being there then.
So drunk it was shameful
One of the men.

I've felt love before.
I put up my screen.
But it was still in love
That I had been.

This is my past
Which I shall not discard.
Worn like pride, it's easy!
It's not hard.

A haiku about coursework
Autumnal skies loom.
Composer sits composing
A new masterpiece.

To the computer's glare: A sonnet in the style of Coleridge
Mild splendour of the caffeine-fuelléd night!
YouTube and George Takei's latest pic! Hail!
I watch thy cat gifs, while with vicious light
Thy bright glare pierces through the curtain's veil;
And when thou crashest and I must reboot
Wait for diagnostics to find your fault;
And when thy light returns again to shoot
My eyes like gold glimmer from a cracked vault.

Ah such is hope! I hope you'll stay this time!
Now dimly thinking time to go to rest;
And thinking it's almost too great a crime
To still tonight the heart that beats your breast.
Your wi-fi sails above like clouds sublime
Of all my friends, my laptop is my best.

Rant poem (Redraft)

Your Children come first

Except when they don’t                                 

Your ethics I cursed

Endure you, I wont

We all have our routines                        

not you though, your exempt

Are you still in your Teens?

To explain, don’t attempt.

Money means a lot

That I can’t deny

Think what you have got

And ask your self why

Money gets thrown around

Horse riding, toy shop trips

I say nothing, no sound                                  

No snide remarks, no quips

Your always away                                           

When the girls need you

They want you to stay

If only you knew

Who is the best parent?

Who wins the sacred prize?                            

Your childish and errant

You can’t see through eyes

Moneys not enough

It’s time they require

It’s time to get tough

It’s time to inspire.

Samarra 5

A servent was sent to the market place
An icy chill and a hooded figure
His own reflection upon its black face

Scared, he left that place to give death some space
worried that death, his soul would disfigure
Samarra calls to evade deaths embrace

In a stricken horror, he fell from grace
On his masters steed, a giant critter
The high city walls, his death would displace

A master left behind, to death gave chase
In the market he chastised with rigor
and asks why he acted with such disgrace

And Death replies with honesty and grace
"we must meet later", without a snigger.
"Twas my surprise to find him in this place"

Was the moral, death you can not erase?
It will hunt you down with vengeful vigour
When its your time, its no matter your pace.

Coventry museum piece redraft

To stand hidden amongst giants,

superfluous to requirement

Days gone by, mysterious clients

A measured, dignified retirement 

Strong in stature, muscled shoulders
Every curve defined and streamlined
A youthful glint that smoulders
hidden away, caged, confined

Underneath an angry tension
bringing forth a vicious roar
A rumbling sound ascension
A youthful image to restore

A gentler side, peaceful, graceful
With dolphin like speed and stealth
Crusing in motion ever faithful
An example of hoarded wealth

Devoid of emotion
Echoes from the ocean
Elegant in motion
Star Sapphire.

Surrealist 2

Solid steel breaking through ice

Cold,reflective and static

Strong and malleable

Bending, never breaking under pressure

Twisting but not in pain

A person,  A soul

Free from pain and yet imprisened in a cage of flesh

Being picked at through the bars

Finally it's over.

By Anya, Tim and Daniel



Way of the World

Things are not how they should be.

Things should be different

Who made the rules

Who said this was the way

I want to change things

I want to say things

That's not how it works

That's not what will happen

So life for me stays the same

So this is my shame

An Imagist Poem

THIS IS AN IMAGIST POEM
Sitting here in an oppressive room,
sunlight streaming in, taunting from outside.
And I'm here
With my fucking pen
and my fucking pad
Writing fucking imagist poems.

Surrealist poem 1

 

A shape, a shadow, a fleeting thought

Going home, it's where the heart is

I need a wee

Listening to the slugs devour my house

Where is the house

Write a line, fold it over

Steven, Stephen, Stefen, Steve

Lets go to bed

React to the person infront.

 

 

By Anya, Tim and Daniel

A haiku

Spider lines winding
Across the lined paper page.
My bad handwriting.

"Appointment in Samarra" poetry: a sonnet and a ballad.

This is my poetry based on the story, "An appointment in Samarra". One is a sonnet, one is a ballad.

Insanity's Crescendo

Insanity’s Crescendo

Abysmally blood-soaking skies

Are reigning over this mad world

Waltzing on silent, echoed cries

Dancing on light and sapphire

I flipped a coin but in mid-air

A sorrowed bird has set it free

A clockwork life dead on a chair

Mourning for dreams of yesteryear

The stage was set, the cursed man sang

And in this doom he found his peace

A round of crazed applause has rang

From empty shells of empty masks

All characters die in despair

So sadly, when the movie ends

For purpose has been met with care

And existence rendered futile

A spinning world on spinning plate

Twisting and crashing with despair

Forsaking randomness of fate

And slaying gods to re-throne death

Coventry Transport Museum Poetry: "Concept" 2

For this one, I tried to give it a little more rhythm and more of a structure. This one's written in a mix of iambic monometer and iambic pentameter.

Samarra 4

Escape your shackles.
Ride away to you own fate.
False sanctuary

Samarra 3

Death awaits all men.
Fearing, fleeing, nothing changes.
Samarra awaits.

poem stuff

I ride my bike to uni,
My friends are full of baluni,
Theres a guy called Chris,
Who always takes the piss,
The experience is driving me loony.

Samarra 2

There was a man who saw death
he ran away to catch his breath
but death got there first,
to the place that was cursed
and now he sits with Macbeth

Samarra 1

There was a man from Baghdad
Seeing death he wasn't to glad.
He raced off on a horse,
went to Samarra of course
and hoped that death was a fad

Uni haiku

A kitchen table
Four friends chattin shit
Utter contentment

Samarra

Samarra

I took my last breath

Seeking sanctuary in Samarra

I had an appointment with death

Clearer than crystal meth

The market, no longer my grave

I took my last breath

His look more tragic than Macbeth

Piercing my being with icy eyes

I had an appointment with death

I ran home to master Seth

An abusive beast, I stole his car

I took my last breath

Smoking my cigarette

I slammed on the gas

I had an appointment with death

I should’ve put up a fight

Instead of losing sight

I took my last breath

I had an appointment with death

By Cosmin Angheluta and Daniel Hartworth

Illusion (Attempt at a well-structured poem)

Illusion

Remembering a midnight dream,

Of you and me lost into space;

A sempiternal harmony

Between dishonesty and grace

Remembering the love I held

For what was closest to perfection

Oh, such a beautiful entity

Was wandering God’s old creation

Remembering, for I recall

Those feelings so blissfully shared

Between two strangers of the night

My love to you, for whom I cared

Remembering, and now it’s sad

For memories are all I have

For you were but a dream of bliss

A dream for which I so much crave

Star Sapphire

A name, a glorious and elegant name
A sophisticated frame
Every curve defined and smooth
Every protruding bulge, streamlined
An angry tension from beneath
Brings forth a vicious roar
Tumultuous in sound
Fast and furious
Ready to race
Athletic in build
Strong haunches, like muscled limbs
Ready to drag its torso
Through rolling crashing waves
Dolphin like speed and stealth
And then peace
Cruising, in motion
A gentler side
Peaceful, graceful, harmonious
Yet still heavy in stature
Elegant in motion.

Coventry Transport Museum Poetry: "Concept" 1

This is my poem based on an installation at Coventry Transport Museum. It's called "Concept".

Some thoughts for November

Okay, so I don't know how many of you know about this, but if you have the time:

Every November there's this thing called NaNoWriMo which is basically a call to arms for aspiring novelists and writers. Over the 30 days in November, the goal is to write 50,000 words of a novel, and the more after that the better. I've done it for a couple of years now, I can say it's often good fun if you can go to one of the meetings and chat with people as you work - it's great motivation for writing too, and it forces you to bash out a novel quickly and actually get something done which you can edit and polish if you want to.

First things first, I'm wondering if anyone in my group has heard of it and is participating. If you are tell me in the comments, I'm interested in trying to set up some meetings here in Coventry (at the moment, the closest NaNo meets are in Birmingham) as it's always good motivation for writing, even if you're not trying to write a novel, and having people there gives you someone to bounce ideas off and help you out if you get stuck.

Second, I'm going to email Tim Kelly, or talk to him as soon as possible, see if he'll include a link on the poetry and prose section on Moodle, or if I can start a thread in the forums to drum up some interest. On a computer, 50,000 isn't actually that much in a month (1,667 per day, but it takes a whole lot longer on a tablet!) and I'm hopeful that there will be people on other courses who'll be interested too.

Third, if you guys are interested at all (and even if you're not) would you like me to post some excerpts as I write up here? It'd be good to get a critique early on, so I'm able to trim down and edit as soon after I finish as possible (much of what you write ends up being fluff and filler in NaNo), plus which it'll allow you to see some of my non-poetry writing and you'll have something to critique if you feel like you need to improve your peer-reviewing skills (Lord knows I do!).

Those are my points. If you guys have anything to add, or are interested in getting a group together and writing novels, please let me know in the comments and we can find somewhere willing to put us up for the month so we can write. :)

-Tim

Poetry: What Makes me Angry? 2

This is the second draft of my poem. I'm sure I'll change the title at some point, but hey.

The main changes here: I'm trying to organise it into something resembling poetry. I've gone with a simple list form, but I still want to keep some of the visually different structure...

There once lived a girl called Yasmin
Whose heart was broken in two
So she found a knife
Put up a good fight
And sliced that barstard in two

By Yasmin X

Sunny - Daniel Hartworth

Sunny

You are big fat and ugly,

You are the opposite of nice and cuddly,

When I see you I am sad,

When you leave I am glad,

You think you are so clever and funny,

but,

When I am around you it is never ever sunny.

Human Nature (Angry Poem)

And thus I kiss my cigarette and close my eyes again

For I’m still warding off the thoughts that this world is but pain

For, once again, I’ve been reminded how much I truly hate

This world that I’ve been living in, this planet, this cruel fate

Once again, I came to see that nothing ever really matters

And that the world’ll keep going on plucking out all my feathers

So wings have become useless now, so has imagination

And, sadly, it is safe to say, God damned all His creation

Humanity’s a disappointment, the Earth’s a defected playground

Reality’s a shattered mirror, dreams so hard to be found

Complacency’s ruling the realm, we aim for mediocrity

And now we’re going day by day, on paths engraved with apathy

An amalgam of selfishness, greed, lies and sheer deception

Fed by a constant fear of failure and rejection

Humanity has become wicked, or been so all along

And people just keep living on, still thinking that we’re strong

A pseudo-sacrosanct travesty – definition of life

All laid down on a kitchen table and butchered with a knife

We lost ourselves in shallowness and self-inflicted pain

And that is why I’ll close my eyes again, again, again

Rant Poetry

Your Children Come First

Your children come first

Except when something else comes first

Our girls are young and need routines,

But you dance around like your in your teens

I have to make plans like a military operation,

But you go ahead, book yourself another vacation

Just because your money means they don't go without,

Don't kid yourself that's what parentings about

Horse riding lessons, and toy shop trips are all fantastic,

But I didn't bring my girls up to be so plastic

Throwing money around doesn't make you a better parent than me,

The thought of Havana's dentist appointment makes you flee 

Stop taking what the girls say as red,

Most of what they say comes straight from their head

Try ringing me first, before sending voile texts,

The girls are the only one your behavior effects

Your tantrums bother me less and less ,

If I'm honest I think your a laughable mess

So carry on with your childish ways,

Stand back and watch their childhood disappear in a haze.

Poetry: What makes me angry? 1

Okay, so this is my first attempt at a poem. I'm not one for rhythm or rhyming, or much "conventional" poetry, but I like to play with the location of words, so that's the sort of poem I've written here. It helps that the placement of words can influence the rhythm, or how they're said.

With this poem I wanted to achieve the sense of how this poem came about. It was really a stream of consciousness when I wrote it, and I've tried to convey that in the style. I'm interested in reading what you guys thought of the structure and of what the poem sounded like in your head: the sort of voice reading it, but I also want to know what it makes you feel. Anyway, here goes: 

Transformation

 So this is a little fragment of something I was trying to write a while ago. Sadly it's the only thing that is left of the short story so enjoy. I thought this would be a little better than a poem since it's a little longer. Enjoy!

                It’s twisting around like a hurricane, being torn apart piece by piece only to be put back together like a blank puzzle depicting nothingness... filled with memories of sorrow I can no longer recognize, while the blood slowly drips as if it were sand in an hourglass. Painfully poisoning my mind with clouds of what I want but can never have... of what I desire most but am not allowed to own, clouds so cruel since they won’t even shed a tear for what’s left of myself. Yes... that’s what this is, a funeral... my funeral... and I’m both the deceased and the mourner, both the victim and the murderer, both the body and the grave. Is it too much to ask for a little sympathy, for a little rain, for a little music before I go, or is this the price to pay for my sins? What is this thorn in my chest that won’t let me die? I’m hopeless... prolonging my life would mean prolonging my suffering... oh torturous fate. What would it take for my mind to stop working, for my soul to stop hoping? It seems to be out of my control now. Damn you if you won’t let my die then I’ll live and I’ll bear this monstrous pain in my chest because I can. Because I may be a fool, I may have lost all hope but I am not weak and for the sake of the strength I once held I’ll push forward until I’ll break. No! I’ll push even after I break, I’ll push with every limb and every piece of my worn out body until it’ll shatter. So what if I’m broken? I can still drag everything down with me and I will. If the world took away everything I had I’ll take the world and bury it with me, if not for revenge at least so I won’t become lonely. I’ll destroy everything because everything is worth destroying and because I can. I have nothing to lose anymore. I see now what this world is and I see that there are no more lights at the end of the tunnel. The world does not need heroes... it needs villains because anyone can rise and become a hero, but who is willing to let himself fall and sacrifice himself to wake up that ray of hope? Who can give himself in to darkness? Nobody! I’ll become that nobody because, now, I have nothing to define me. I’ll be the chaos to give birth to order, I’ll be the storm that cleanses the air and I’ll be the evil that defines the good. Yes... because I can... not because no one else could... but because I can. I won’t heal this broken heart of mine... I’ll expose it as grotesquely as I can, I’ll use it to bring terror, I’ll use it to paint a nightmare and I’ll use it to preach hopelessness. Who would’ve thought a broken heart can bring so much joy... Now, all I need is a drop of insanity and I’m good to go. I’ll spiral downwards and I’ll enjoy it for I will not be alone, I’ll take this malfunctioning world with me.

Hi everyone!

So I guess we oughta get this blog started.

First things first: does anyone have a way to contact Anya? She still hasn't joined the blog as an author. I don't want her missing out on potential marks if this turns out to be important for the course (if anyone knows any details about that, feel free to fill me in in the comments).

Second, I'll be posting some poetry up here sometime tonight to get going, if you guys have anything to contribute too then add that at some point. Tell me if you have any problems here - I'm no tech whiz, but I'll do my best to sort it out, since it's on my blogs.

Third, and completely unrelated, does anyone know where I can buy some plectrums in Coventry?

-Tim