All posts tagged: personal

The Part Of Me I Didn’t Like

I wasn’t who you made me, I turned myself into that girl who threaded her fingers into the gaps between yours.   Lingered longer than should have outside of cafes, and pocket shops, between cobbles and walkways where we strolled away afternoons until the bus table declared enough was enough.   She who returned whenever she could because you made her feel wanted, told her she could be and would be if you weren’t already taken.   Like I said, she wasn’t her because of you. I managed to make her all by myself. Unmaking her was the part I’m still learning how to do. This is a poem I’ve written out a few times in various forms and never been quite happy with but tonight’s poetics prompt seemed like the perfect time to have another go at it. Still not sure I’ve got it right but I can always try again another day. Feedback as always is greatly appreciated if you have the time to spare.

Half Faith – DVersePoets Haibun Monday

I was raised in stone built churches on country lanes. Visited four or five times a year, more often late than on time, flanked by my parents and sister. I prefer the old hymns to the new, the silence of reverence to the cries of praise from a congregation, and the arch of oak beams far above me, over the neat square faces of twentieth century municipal buildings thrown up in towns. My Grandmother would say that God is always with her, no matter the place. When I told her I wasn’t sure I believed in him, she explained how he came to her whenever she was in need. How each time she opened herself to him, he was there. Even though she failed to seek him out when the storm clouds passed. I envied that faith when my own was a rickety boat threatening to drown me at sea. Elizabeth The First is quoted as saying she did not want to make windows into men’s souls. I have to take sides with her about …

This Place Is A Bog Where I Cannot Swim

I have tried to rise above but some days are like mires,   memories bubble up from the ground to catch my feet, and there’s no pushing past the darkness when the backs of my eyelids become cinema screens for the voice in the my head that’s always judging every move I make. It tells me friends are only pretending to my face, and when I’m gone they are talking about me. It knows exactly what they are saying when I’m out of earshot so it repeats the words like a mantra over the patter of memories I thought dealt with, sealed into their graves long ago, but somehow resurrected just when everything seemed to be going so well. This type of cold cannot be shrugged off, instead it chills every bone in my body to the point where I become brittle as glass, ready to shatter at the slightest tremor. Somebody tell me, how do I rise above this? Daily Post: Above


There are days where parakeets won’t stop squawking, monkeys are rattling cage bars like tambourines, chatter and laughter from hyenas is overflowing, elephants have expanded from trumpets to brass bands, pythons pay xylophone across giraffe necks, riverdance is hammered out by gazelle, hippos have taken up a baseline that’s rattling my bones while lions sing tenor like a welsh church choir and all at once sound becomes this physical thing battering me in submission. This zoo inside my head doesn’t know silence, it doesn’t even know quiet or tempered or hushed, all it knows is the racket threatening my eardrums from the inside. The one that won’t stop despite my screaming despite my pleading. It doesn’t understand that all I want is for it to stop. Written For The Daily Prompt: Zoo

Hey! Short-Arse.

I’ve always been short, short person, short stuff, short arse, elbow rest, lean on my head, talk over the top of me, clamber over boxes, steps, stools, ladders to reach those things you can reach. I’ve always been short, not going to get any taller, stopped growing now, stopped growing up at least, bought new jeans this week two dress sizes up which is a pain because these jeans are a 10 and my wedding dress an 8 but there’s room to breath and wiggle a little so perhaps I’m more 9 than 10 and as a 9 maybe I can suck in… or go to the gym and use the membership draining my account each month. I like to work out sometimes, I like yoga when there’s the room, but really I should go, less to loose weight more to tone and focus on staying fit instead of spreading outwards because I’m short and I’ll always be short so best not match my height with my waist and try to find the stuff to …

Doodle-A-Day 25/1/16

Behold one of the greatest joys of my life, shoes. This was a rough sketch of one of my boots that I tend to wear most days. I was really struggling to draw anything tonight and in the end I kicked off a shoe, deposited on my desk and decided ‘Right. I’m not very good at shoes, I’m going to do something about that.’ That is what I want 2016 to be about for me. Finding my weaknesses and doing something to strengthen myself. I love drawing but I let myself get bogged down in what I can and can’t draw. Therefore, my for this year is to try and push myself in some way each day. A few of you have commented that you really like the idea of this challenge and if you want to join in, even if it’s just for a week or so, feel free add links to your own daily doodles in the comments below. I’d love to pop over and see what you’ve created.

Weekend Coffee Share

If we were having coffee I’d tell you how I’ve spent the last four hours trying to write a chapter and I’ve managed 1,500 words in that time. It’s not my best and right now I’m stuck, really stuck and part of me worries that nothing I’ve written before this point makes a whole lot of sense. I’ve got just over 20,000 words of the second draft written and more keeps coming, but I don’t know if it’s all the same story… If we were having coffee I’d also let you in on the fact that I’m trying to write a few pieces for competition entries but having just as much luck on that as I am with the novel. It feels weird taking time off from one to work on the other and when I do I spend more time staring at blank screens then I do actually putting words down on paper. I feel like I’m plateauing and I’m note entirely sure what to do about it. I can’t work out if I …

Look! Feet!

This lovely pair of size three [sometimes four depending on the shoe] carried me to 10k the other week at Tatton Park! That’s right, I managed to complete my race for life and even raised a little bit of money as I did it. Yay me! For those of you wondering what on earth has happened to me over the last few weeks I’ll be posting a little later on to tell you why I seemed to drop off the face of the planet. Trust me. The excuses are many. [Apologies for the quality of the photo. My phone isn’t great for taking snaps.]

Going The Distance

I couldn’t help myself with the Disney Hercules reference. I may be twenty but Toni and I still belt out those songs in public if we so wish to!   But once again, I’m talking about something that really has nothing to do with the topic that I wanted to actually write about. But I suppose my followers are getting use to that by now. Did I ever tell any of you that I used to run long distance? Yeah, really, Miss Hater Of Almost All Exercise used to run long distance. Now I’ll admit I’m talking 1,500 meters on Sports’ Day at Secondary School, and outside school I didn’t have that much motivation to go out a run. But every now and again I did, and you know what, I wasn’t bad at it. However, since getting to Uni I’ve stopped pretty much all forms of physical exercising and become really, rather lazy. So with Spring now here I decided to try and do something about it and started jogging again. Not too far the …

Dangerous Sleeper

Have you ever elbowed someone in the throat while you slept? In my defence, I was aiming to elbow an extremely, infuriating housemate in the ribs, it just so happened that I was dreaming and my boyfriend rolled over to see what I was mutter about. (I talk in my sleep.) Hence elbow in the throat and a very, surreal wakeup. I can’t even claim that this was a one time affair. Both my boyfriend and I are quite active sleepers, rolling over, shifting about and blurting out random comments while we sleep. I wake up to find he’s rolled over and pinned me in my sleep, the other night I got kneed in the but and he’s always informing me of the various punches and elbows that I supposedly sent his way as I tossed and turned in the night. (Somehow sliding half-way down the bed is also a common occurrence with me. It really confuses him.) I’m not sure what I chatter on about in my sleep, but I’ll leave you with a …