All posts tagged: caroljforrester

Lost: One Bench #Throwback Thursday

‘How can you forget where you left it?’ Samantha demanded, shooting Michael a withering look before closing her eyes and counting to ten. In a moment she would let out a deep sighing breath and give Michael her best, why do you insist on embarrassing me stare before ordering another drink from the bar and forgetting the subject altogether. 1,2,3,4- ‘I mean really Michael!’ Michael blinked, confused as to where the last 6 seconds had gone and why she hadn’t ordered a large glass of red wine. She wasn’t following the natural order. ‘It’s a bench!’ Samantha spluttered. ‘You cannot misplace a bench! Especially not one of yours! They’re massive and made of wood. WOOD MICHAEL! WOOD!’ Everyone else in the pub had fallen silent now, the hum of conversation dying as all eyes turned to stare at the couple having the argument. Or rather, Samantha yelling at her bemused husband since Michael rarely said two words to anyone about anything. ‘I could understand a nail or two, perhaps even your level metre, but misplacing …

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-One: Love

Love is a dangerous serpent, if you learn how to knot it how to twist it back on itself until it resembles nothing of love at all, then you can weave a noose from the stands cut from your own heart and choke the life out of those who refused to take it when love was first offered. And now for our (optional) prompt. In her interview, Brim provides us with several suggestions for generative writing exercises, and we’d like to challenge to today to tackle her third one, which is based in the myth of Narcissus. After reading the myth, try writing a poem that plays with the myth in some way.  There is something in this myth that has rubbed me the wrong way today. I think it’s the parallel between Narcissus being cursed for not returning another’s love, and the current climate where women are sometimes thrown into toxic situations where rejecting an advance is seen as an insult that should be punished.

If We Were Having Coffee

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a Saturday Coffee post but to be honest, not a lot has really gone on. At the beginning of February all of my productivity stalled and coupled with every cold going, and even a chest infection, I’m not really done very much at all since January. The second draft of the novel has now reached 40,000 words but progress is a little slow. I’m trying to focus more on my AAT course than the writing and that means I spend a lot less time at the keyboard than I would like. The course is what needs my attention however and the sooner I finish the sooner I can get back to focusing on my writing. Even if it does seem like Darkened Daughter is just getting longer and longer with every passing day. The fiancée and I have just got our mortgage-in-principal so we can start making choices about where we want to buy in earnest. Trying to get my head around legal fees and surveys is more …

Backwards Traveller

I am not a wanderer. These feet find too much home in sandstone slopes and moss edged red bricks tucked up in dandelion lawns and weather worn fence posts. These souls loose their itch too close to the boundary mark. Shutter up too soon after leaving. Always find a way of looking back and remembering everything I want. I have. I just have to turn around.   My first poem since January. The prompt was to write a poem about the adventure of travel but I’m not ashamed to say that I’m an utter home bird. I do like visiting new places but I hate being away from home for long. I’m one of those people who’s attachment to their own bed beats almost every other attachment I have. I like knowing that I’m at home.

Blue Trellis

    Lilly had been expecting something more than blue, trellis gates. Beyond them, the compound crept west, the concrete yard broken up by thistles and nettles, bursting out of the cracks and spilling out onto the emptiness. She swallowed and looked at the gates again, imagined something stronger, like steel or iron, tall and spiked. ‘Three, fifteen,’ said the woman beside her. She sucked air through her teeth and tapped at her watch. ‘Your uncle said he would meet us here.’ Lilly nodded and peered past the weeds. She nibbled her lip and then stopped. Remember, she thought. Just be nice.

Winter Haibun

In the morning I woke to find you watching from the window, dressing gown pulled tight as the snow came in drift and flurries against the glass. Next-door’s cat had already asserted itself across the garden. One thin set of paws from corner to corner, from rose bush to compost bin, long and straight. I lie there, still softened by sleep and content to see the tracks fill with snow through the calmness in your eyes. We’ll stay like this, in silence. Until the sun has risen high enough for the snow to melt and the birds to brave to skies and next doors cat returns from hunting with mice or vole. Until it rouses you from the window and brings you back to bed, where I will lie waiting for you.   Wonderland winters stay only in the present. They end too quickly. This prompt from dVerse Poets has been rolling around in my head all week and more specifically I’ve been trying to work out how to write something less dark than my first …

Doodle-A-Day 9/1/16

So instead of putting up just the finished piece I decided to post a few of the images that I took while trying to draw this one. One of the things that I wanted to achieve with this doodle-a-day challenge was to improve my technique when sketching. Improvement only comes with practice so for this doodle I decided to try and draw something that really challenged me. I’m not a 100% happy with how it looks after the water-colour pencils but that’s something I can work on throughout the year and hopefully get right on a future piece.

Mackintosh

There were roses in the stain glass, between the door and the coat hooks, blues and yellows, pinks and orange mashed together in a narrow slab of light refracted back off itself until it collapsed into the hallway sickened and greening on the hardwood floor where my suitcases sat waiting for someone else to lift them but not quite sure which direction they wanted to take.