No I'm not fine.
I'm going out of my mind.
Trying to find.
A reason why.
I should stay.
I should say.
I wont delay.
But I can't slay.
The fears.
That bring the tears.
That keep me here.
Liquid spears.
That pierce my skin.
So I keep feelin's.
Within.
And hide behind a grin.

"Even bulletproofs need a hug sometimes."
I'm affraid I'll have to decline.
Maybe after a little more time.
The armour'll come off, and I'll be fine.

This way.
I can take.
So much Pain.
And it's plain.
To see.
Why for me.
This is easy.
As how I breathe.
Please.
Believe.
I'm not heartless.
Regardless.
Of what I want you to think.
And sometimes I want to drink.
Away the pain.
Or take it all away.
But still I saty.
Strong as I can.
Too many people need me.
For me to so speedily.
End it.

"Even bulletproofs need a hug sometimes."
I'm affraid I'll have to decline.
Maybe after a little more time.
The armour'll come off, and I'll be fine.

Sometimes I open up, but it's hard for me to do it.
So I keep as closed as I can, the point don't persue it.
This armour is all I have.
Slapped on me by my dad.
When he told me to toughen up.
So I did, crying did stop punches.
While I'm being beaten up on school lunches.
And my nose just crunches.
And bleeds.
It feeds.
The need.
To no longer beable to be hurt.

"Even bulletproofs need a hug sometimes."
I'm affraid I'll have to decline.
Maybe after a little more time.
The armour'll come off, and I'll be fine.

-Harry

Love Lost Part 3

Theis pain is bliss.
It's like a kiss.
I wont be missed.
I pump my fists.
And tear new rifts.
My spirit lifts.
And falls again.
Under the strain.
Of a noose on my brain.
Let loose for the pain.
It brings.
The blade, stings.
As I cut out my heart,
I said before, it's an art.
To be void of emotion.
It takes some devotion.
Cold as the sea, oceans!
Froze over.
I'm no closer.
To home.
I'm so alone.
And love it.
The fact that I plumet.
So low.
When I'm solo.
Hollow as polo.
A bad metaphor.
But I'm sad therefor.
I don't care.
I wont glare.
At myself in a mirror.
I shiver.
See, you don't know me.
Why I'm so lonely.
and I'm cold, only.
Thing is, I care too much.
Too share too much.
Would leave me such.
An open wound.
To be made worse.
It's such a curse.
But I bare it well.
-Harry

I'll say goodbye now.
Even with a dry mouth.
Please don't cry, how.
Can, I, fly South.
For the winter.
When you're in me like a splinter?
You're under my skin.

So I'll go North.
To run from the source.
That made me change my course.
I wont even pause.
To catch my breath.
I don't need a rest.
But you're under my skin.

After a few months, maybe a year.
I will come back, from facing my fears.
Leaving you will, reduce me to tears.
But I will not cry, in front of my peers.
I'll come back stronger.
Staning no longer.
With you under my skin.
-Harry

I've just found out, that I can't join the Navy.
There's something in my blood, so I've been down lately.
But I walk around smilin, while people slate me.
See they whisper behind my back, don't want to agrivate me.
And I laugh at the fact that people begged me to stay.
Now, when I wave at you, you turn the other way.
We hardly speak anymore, ok, fair play.
Even if we do, you don't have much to say.
I don't mind though, honestly, I'm fine.
I've more to worry about, than you on my mind.
I've got to try and find.
A way for me to climb.
Out of this hole, it'll just take time.
And when I'm finally back, up on my two feet.
I'll run far away, new people I will meet.
I'll come back though, I promise, don't worry.
Just don't expect me to be back in a hurry.
Sometimes change, is what somebody needs.
I know I do, I want to be freed.
I need to go away, get my own space.
Clear my head a little, in some quiet place.
There once was a time.
We'd talk all night.
Usually when, your boyfriend made you feel shite.
But that was a year ago, now we're not so tight.
So I'll say goodbye, goodnight, God bless.
A bit happier now, I've lain these feelings to rest.
-Harry

"To travel to unknown from lost"

To lose a life of living
And move into unknown
Requires people giving
And all the love they've shown

To flee from desperation
And dive straight into bliss
Needs that sweet sensation:
A fleeting lover's kiss

To leave this world of plenty
And make that fatal choice
A broken soul must empty
Of all but one sweet voice

Simplicity

Things are changing faster than
I can run up
(Out of breath, smoke filing out of my mouth
One Co2 after the next
An upheaval)
And catch them,
Maybe they are dandelions, feathers, snow
Maybe it's a plastic bag
A leaf
Rubbish.
I'm still trying to catch it.

Let's talk about it
Sit me down with a cup and don't tell me
Line limits
Let's talk about it over a drop of Baileys
We'll give it a title
Like Carol Ann Duffy with her nostalgia.

See
There
Is
No
Purity.

Like there is no love that stretches out from my road to my friend's road
In San Francisco
I thrown myself like a dice and then maybe, just maybe
I'll stretch out, along with the abstract nouns and then maybe
There is a chance
That I will see a glimpse of it in a
Coffee bean

In a coffee machine
.
Still for a minute
Then nothing but a whiff
In the chef's nose.
Catch it if you can.

Bitter rememberance of Ivanhoe

It was
Beacause I'm Butch,
Beacause I'm Thin,
Beacause they thought I fancied women.

But beacause
I live,
Beacause I laugh,
Beacause I will do things that are daft.

That
I will love,
I will hate,
I will learn from my mistakes,
I will fight
and I will fall
and I'll get up
and to prove you all

I am better than you!
I don't do those things
that you do.

You wont remember
and you will dismiss...

Well i was the girl that slit her wrists!

You told me to die,
Thousands of times

Watched me bleed,
Watched me bruise,
You watched me cry.

Oh but then authorety ignored
beacause to them it was a chore.

So privately my pain would sear
When teachers pretended not to hear
What was it you kids used to say?

"hey emo kid why dont you die today!"

Nic xx

My last post was far too sensitive.
For anger's representative.
Maybe I changed your perspective.
'Cause my words are so effective.
I'm the one that you're upset with.
Hurting you was not my objective.
This one's gonna be reflective.
Though they seem to get repetitive.
It wont be depressive.
But maybe it is best if.
I think you should get rid.
Of me just like the rest did.
I've never been arrested.
The prison I am blessed with.
Is inside my own head.
My mobile phone's dead.
That's why I didn't txt.
This is all too complex.
You won't change the subject.
And I can't get no rest.
Up all night isn't the best.
Niether's the pain in my chest.
Feels like climbing Everest.
No longer am I love obssessed.
OK, that's a lie.
At least I gave it a try.
Don't ever want to cry.
I will take a stage dive.
And let this rage fly.
We will take this page by.
Page, I'm.
Sorry, I.
Let our love die.
Played the "tough guy".
"That is not enough, bye."
This tears brought by.
Everything I thought, time.
To man up.
I'm down on my luck.
But I'm bouncing back like, I don't give a f***
-H

Loggie.

I hope you're up there smilin' down.
Finally happy now.
I just wonder how.
It still hits me like POW!
You're really gone.
After so long.
What's wrong?
Why do I still cry at your favourite song?
I still laugh.
At the photographs.
Of after dad.
Left.
And in the sadness.
You pulled us from the blackness.
Kept us smiling.
Kept me shining.
Stopped me from crying.
Now I sighing.
Wonderin why 'n'.
Thinking of dying.
Time's flying.
By, at stupid speeds.
What do I need.
To keep me.
On my feet?
I miss you.
We all do.
You're loved too.
Though I'm sure you knew.
That, yeah you must do.
But it won't bring you back.
Nothing will.
You took so many pills.
And our hearts are filled.
With grief.
Of which there's no release.
Only.
Knowing you're sleeping.
And your memory we're keeping.
-H

Payback

You shouldn't have cut me loose.
I'll be like salt in your wounds.
Assulting me too.
Offten.
You must've forgotten.
I'm rotten.
You've gotten.
To me and I'm sodden.
Down trodden.
I hit rock bottom.
But bouncing back.
On attack.
With the rest of my pack.
Cut me some slack.
While I tell you the facts.
Of the bullies who smacked.
Kicked, spit and cracked.
Open our souls.
We fixed our bones.
Stitched up the holes.
And continued to grow.
Cold as the snow.
The wind when it blows.
Our hearts they all froze.
So we keep 'em closed.
Don't want to expose.
Our weaknesses.
This bleakness is.
Full of peaceful bliss.
Nothing can equal this.
So don't take the piss.
Or we'll take our list.
Add you to it.
Now you're stut,stut, stuttering.
Too much muttering.
Your heart's fluttering.
While you're spluttering.
Begging forgiveness.
No we don't give this.
No you cannot twist.
Away from our grips.
We were the geeks.
Oh so week.
Who you'd seek.
Just to beet.
But now your feet.
Backtrack.
So fast.
We win at last.
This is payback.
-H

Dead Poet's Society

We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

To The Northen Girl

To the northern girl
at Nottingham university.
Who was offered a place to do a PHD.
Who didn’t have a boyfriend
until she was twenty two.
Who had friends close
and few.
Who thought my father
was pompous, rude, arrogant.
A woman that is firm and frank
in what she says,
frowning at modern teenage ways.
Never believed when we were ill,
Awquardly tried to talk to me about the pill.
Told me I couldn’t be sad
when shitty relationships went bad.
Keep calm and carry on
no sympathy I ever got from
you

To my foundation
To my walls
To my roof
And to my floor

A woman strange to some.
That woman. That is my mum.

Nic x

Aquafresh and Boots brushes
Have just left my terminator jaws
And it's late
I'm dry, narrow-eyed and you're
Flowing with something
Was it the half-flat rabbit on the way
To M6? The fact that Google maps
Now let you walk the streets of Tokyo?
The trainers that your husband left
For tripping over?

You meet me on my sofa, Froydan glory
We're going into therapy
I walk along the walls and cieling
Of the box that you are in.
You say you're getting thin despite
The fact that pastries resume
And running's ceased and you
Just measure out minutes
Banana-flovoured medicine.

I promise that we'll work out a plan
We'll move to London.
We will visit Germany. We'll write
This down next morning, when it's not
Half twelve. I wake to you
Being away somewhere. Next time I see you
You are
Downstairs, shopping bags galore,
A haircut the six year old
Will ignore

And you just sit there, acceptance
Lapping up the wine
Playing Monopoly.
Marital bliss, once again, won.

Curls loosened by the rain,
My work here is done.

-Tallie


Guys, visit http://poetry365.tumblr.com - ENDLESS inspiration

Hide.

It's hard to be serious.
When pain makes you delirious.
And tears are so near to us.
Demons come through the fear in us.
So look at me, I'm here to trust.
When he will have finally pushed.
When your spirit's really crushed.
You know when our hands nearly touch.
We both want it just as much.
I'll always be here to clutch.
Close to you when you need such.
A person to make you feel loved.
I don't know if it's enough.
But I know that it's more than lust.
We would be so good for us.
You fixed my heart when it was crushed.
I don't think it was your intention.
It's like I've been in detetion.
Heart held in a time suspention.
Did I forget to mention.
I want to ask you a question.
But I'm so scared of rejection.
I turn and go in another direction.
Because I buckle under the tension.

So I run from you and hide in the darkness.

Yes.

I run from you and hide in the darkness.

If I could dare just to ask you.
I would stay and I would see this through.
But I'm gone.
I'm gone.

I'm not the most handsome lad.
But I will be the best you've had.
I know that sounds really bad.
But I don't mean it like that.
I mean I'll not let you down.
I wouldn't mess you around.
It felt like I had drowned.
Until you made my heart pound.
You brought me back to life.
When I'd given up with all the strife.
When misery in me was rife.
You encouraged me to try.

But I run from you and hide in the darkness.

Yes.

I run from you and hide in the darkness.

If I could dare just to ask you.
I would stay and I would see this through.
But I'm gone.
I'm gone.
I'm gone.

These scars run far too deep.
They make me loose my sleep.
I really hate the way they always seem to keep.
Me awake at night.
Demons so hard to fight.
There gone with mornings' light.
So I clench my fists tight.
-
You deserve so much more.
Than me, I am sure.
What am I even asking for?
I do not know.
That's why I go.
Write this flow.
Just to show.
Just to blow.
Off this steam.
While I scream.
The words stream
Out of me.
They rip the seams.
All my dreams.
Converge on this computer screen.
For you to read.
While my heart bleeds.
It is what feeds.
This poetry.
For all to see.
My heart set free.
I wonder would you have me?
Probably.
Not see.

I run from you and hide in the darkness.

Yes.

I run from you and hide in the darkness.

If I could dare just to ask you.
I would stay and I would see this through.
But I'm gone.
I'm gone.
I'm gone.

-H

The Ideal Pastime

I wrote this when I was in Year 6 :')

Flowing writing, a different world:
Vicarious travel, imagery whirl.
Characters sneeze, characters snooze,
Enjoying the buzz, away with the blues.
A classic, a comedy, a horror or two,
A war story...spy! Non-fiction ones too!
Let's go with the flow and relish the flow -
Catching the hue with just words to show.
Animals here, animals there.
Like the Noah's Ark - they're everywhere!
THE IDEAL PASTIME - reading a story,
Relaxing yourself, savouring the glory.
So go and get one now - have a real good look.
And put your feet up and read a good book! (:

Mini Saga: Break a Leg!

This mini saga was influenced by an accident my friend had. He broke a leg, and had to be lifted by an air ambulance. Many people said he was lucky that he got a ride on a helicopter...

Through the blur of racing navy blue jumpers, Scott glimpsed it - huge, gunmetal, hovering against the grass. Rotor winds slapped against his face. His leg's broken, face in grimace. The pain was incredible.

But as he was hoisted up the air ambulance, he glimpsed envious faces, heard murmurings:

"He's lucky..."

Mini Saga: To Catch a Rainbow

A poet, pen nestled on his ear, sat atop an oarless boat. Drifting out to sea, he sought tender inspiration from the night sky.

Drunk with the effervescent stars, the inky infinity spread before him, impulse struck - THE perfect sonnet!!!

At that auspicious moment, he realised what he forgot - paper.

Unfair Trade

A baby chimp in hand
Is better than four of them dead in the bush,
But most priceless is his head-scratching habit
When wondering where his family went.

A shark’s fin soup
tastes grey and cold once you’ve surmised
That the Great White,
de-finned alive
Is with its alcoholic eyes and body
Still executing the Jig of Death in the deep.

The fiery stripes on the rug of tiger-pelt
Is nothing compared to a tiger’s actual presence felt
Stalking through the jungle.
Tyger tyger burning bright, what human Gun for Hire
Dares light your funereal pyre?

Humans often overlook to be Humane
By gazing with disdain
at the idea that
there is beauty in Letting Be.
For all our great strides in international comity,
Walking upright as masters of diplomacy,

The Unfair Trade betrays only one thing:
That we all still lack expertise
in the Great Art of Coexisting.

A Haiku to Reading

I'm losing myself
in the clutches of a book.
Puzzled, yet content.

Who Cares Anymore?

And the moon seems too old to care
As the life ebbs out of me.
Trickling, streaming, screaming,
Death comes swift.
No one cares anymore.

Competitions

Okay, so here's the info about competitions that I told you guys about

First one's got to be handed into ME or MRS RAPHAEL before HALF TERM for a chance to get published in an anthology and receive a £10 book voucher. The best thing is that it can be ANY LENGTH, ANY TOPIC, ANY STYLE! Go to town guys :D

Second one is the boring essay competition, but one with a GREAT prize. Here's the info for it:


The 2010 Baillie Gifford Essay Competition. For the 5th year running, Baillie Gifford - in association with the Financial Mail - is running a national essay competition aimed at helping students understand more about managing their finances. The competition is open to two different age categories, 13-15 year-olds and 16-18 year-olds, and they have to write an essay of no more than 750 words on the following subject:

"As a newly appointed minister in the coalition government, how would you encourage more people to save and why is saving good for the economy?"

There are fantastic prizes up for grabs, including a 16GB Apple iPad, two days work experience at the Financial Mail (for the 16-18 year old category only), a mini laptop computer, and lots of book tokens. Plus there’s also the chance for your school to win some great prizes. The school of the first-prize winner in each age category will receive £500, a trophy and 34 educational finance workbooks.

Please make sure that all entries reach us on or before the closing date of 5 November 2010.
Please visit www.bailliegifford.com/essay to find out more about the competition and to enter online.



Okay my dears, enjoy and let me know what you're all doing!

See you Tuesday!

Love,

Tallie

If I had.

I just got mugged.
Shrugged.
Wiped away the blood.
And continued to strut.
I'm out of my rut.
No more cut.
Wrists.
This is.
Bliss.

If I had had a time machine.
I wouldn't change a thing.
I know some times were mean.
And some wounds still sting.

Start from the beginin.
I was never winnin.
Mainly raised by women.
I was thinnin.
Didn't eat a thing.
Hopin somethin.
Would bring.
My daddy back.
But his lack.
Of bein here.
May have brought my tears.
Engaged my fears.
But over the years.
I grown better than what he'd have made me.
And maybe.
It's for the best.

If I had had a time machine.
I wouldn't change a thing.
I know some times were mean.
And some wounds still sting.

I lost my little cousin.
I remember rushin.
Around, gushin.
Tears.
With my family.
We never got to see.
Her gorw to be.
A happy child, we.
Found out after the funeral.
That the hospital.
Took her organs without permission.
More hurt, blured vission.
From more cyin'
But it made us hard is what I'm tryin.
To say.
I'll always remember that day.
It sticks in my head, in the worst way.

If I had had a time machine.
I wouldn't change a thing.
I know some times were mean.
And some wounds still sting.

Skip forward, miss out more stuff.
I don't want to gush.
Every.
Bad memory.
I have in me.
But let's see,
Which one next?
My dad cryin over his ex.
After she tried to knife him.
Sink a blade into his skin.
And she still met my face with a sickenin.
Grin.
Knowin.
I'd had to hold my dad up.
While he shook.
From the tears.
And my gears.
In my head.
Grind.
While I try to find,
Somethin' to say.

If I had had a time machine.
I wouldn't change a thing.
I know some times were mean.
And some wounds still sting.

A few more months.
And I'm stood in front.
Of a mirror while I grunt.
As I slip a blade across my wrist.
Clench my fist.
Face twists.
Vission mists.
Wash the blood down the sink.
While I blink.
Away the moister.
Like mornin due.
It's gone a soon.
As it came.
As is the pain.
But I know I'll do it again.
Just hope I'll become sane.

If I had had a time machine.
I wouldn't change a thing.
I know some times were mean.
And some wounds still sting.

So now I'm better.
Gettin' wetter.
Standin in the rain.
Waiting for a train.
Have a clear brain.
After havin lain.
My depression to rest.
This is the best.
Time of my life.
And I'm wastin it.
So I'm facin it.
Head on.

If I had had a time machine.
I wouldn't change a thing.
I know some times were mean.
And some wounds still sting.
-H

This warrior metality.
Is apparently.
Bad for me.
While I franticly.
Heat up like the Arctic sea.
Then I'll be.
Fighting with clarrity.
But don't expect charity.
I'll be spittin' blaspheme.
And ask for three.
Seconds, to break free.
I reckon.
I'm a land mine you're stepin'
On,
And I won't be gone.
Till I'm done.
I don't do this just for fun.
So you'd better run.
Because until the day.
That I'm old and grey.
I'll be okay.
Fightin whatever comes my way.
Until I run out of luck.
And I'm finally stuck.
Struck.
Down.
I'll keep goin till I bleed out.
-H

And There I go again.

I don't meen to complain and moan.
But lately I've been shown.
Just how you can be blown.
Back, and left alone.
No one rings my telephone.
I feel like we have grown.
So apart.
And now I start.
Feeling like dart.
Passed right through my heart.

And there I go again.

Talking so much of heart break.
And slit wrists, that make my arm ache.
My heart beats like an earth quake.
But your heart beat is so fake.
There's only so much I'll take.
Of you, your like a snake.
In the grass.
A higher class.

And there I go again.

I'm drinkin'Sinkin'Blinkin'away tearswhat was I thinkin'shrinkin'under stars twinklin', light's dimmin'conciousnessthinin'blackness. Your'resotactless. I'mscreamininside.died.blind.Find myself.

And there I go again.

This pain.
Is a train.
Wreck in my brain.
Heck. Am I sane?
I'll ask this pill.
While I take my fill.
Carefull not to spill.
What I drinkin, pig swill?
No, pig's will.
Fly tonight.
Oh right.
Really?
No, but I nearly.
Had you.
Oh wait no I didn't.
Take a sip, stay hidden.

Here I go again.
-Harry

I wish I'd not returned.
Wish you could have learned.
I do not want to be.
At school and you will see.
Me leave.
But you begged, please.
Stay, don't go.
But then you throw.
Me away.
Why did I stay?
Just for you.
Now I'm screwed.
And so confused.
I want to be.
In the military.
You played me.
What, you think you'll save me?
I'll still join up.
Wish me luck.
But don't think of.
The boy you'll loose.
Forever.
You will see me, never.
Again.
All the pain.
Inside.
Died.
I'll come home, once or twice.
Would that be nice?
Would you want to see.
What you gave up.
Or would it suck.
Would it hurt.
More than any injury.
I could take?
Would I wake.
In the night.
And want to fight.
My way to you.
But I've out grew you.
Screw you.
I'll be on my ship.
Or in the shit.
And you will miss me.
Or the way you twist me.
Around your finger.
I wont linger.
Any longer.
Some lad will con ya.
Into bed.
While I'll be bein careful not to tred.
On a land mine.
I'm gonna leave this time.
-H

Rock and Roll Soul

Rock and Roll Soul

From this day forth I will live a life
Of Rock and Roll,
I announced to my mother the other day. She was speechless
Oh I could never describe the look on her face!

I’m pretty sure
In her mind she had conjured
My metamorphosis into a rebel, an iniquitous blight
With a boorish swagger, high boots,
And jeans OOOOOOHHH SO TIGHT!
Long hair swishing from side to side.
What a FRIGHT!

Before she could topple over, I quickly allayed her fears.
(Like hey, she never really knew me from all those years!)
Mum:

A true proselyte of Rock and Roll
Has communed with the light within his soul.
True, at times he deigns to conform,
And breaks free from the conveyor-belt norm.

Steeped in the sounds of his wild wild youth,
Underneath all the shiny façade he sees the Truth.
Equipped with the mettle to question
All the hegemony and oppression.


An advocate of peace when all the world’s at war,
(And yet somehow they think that he is bizarre!)
Believing that … “all you need is love!”

He sees through his effervescent eyes
Everyone’s sparkle and star-struck lips
Beyond their disguise
He sees
within everyone is a force beyond measure.
Rock on, my brothers!

Having a rock and roll lifestyle is quite handy
When residing in a slumbering planet.
Everything he touches comes alive
Of shades of gleaming gunmetal, screamin’ green, jazzberry jam
And once again the earth is such a sight, amplified.

Night has fallen upon the world,
But for our Rock and Roller, things have just started to get
interesting.
He dusts sandstorms from off his weathered boots
And tenaciously carries on with the show.
YOWWW!

He takes life by the day, and knows how
To flow like water, drift like clouds
And besides,
what better way to express
The world’s moments of ecstasy
and distress
Than through this?

A rocker Rocks On regardless of age,
Of gender, of creed, and of race,
He speaks up on his stage when there is need to be brave,
To eschew all that is base and depraved.

Outrageous like Black Sabbath, but suave like the King,
He will without doubt make your heart sing!

And from that day forth having one like me in the house,
Has made my mum proud.
Because I choose to have a Rock and Roll Soul
Which just means I’m LIVING OUT LOUD!

;D

-Marco (Polo)

PS: I entered this for a performance poetry competition; wish me luck!

So now I strap on my armour.
And laugh at the Karma.
You're such a charmer.
But really what are ya?
All I see is a face.
A whore with no tatse.
In a stiuation you placed.
Youself in, a disgrace.
You'll want me when I'm gone.
Cleanin guns.
Four mile runs.
Under an Afgan sun.
And I'll probably think back.
To the way I used to act.
Always tryin to attract.
Your antenntion.
With unmatched afection.
Now I've dealt with rejection.
I'm movin onto reflection.
I'll never write to you, or call you at night.
Never tell you I love you when the feelin's right.
You'll never see me again.
I promise you that.
-H

The books in my bag.
Aren't half as heavy as my heart.
It just won't start.
Her words tore me apart.
And sent me burnin' to the ground.
Now I've found.
Away of coping.
Stand soaking.
In the rain, hoping.
Chokin.
On my tounge.
It's all gone.
Wrong.
Break my leg's, I'll walk it off.
Snap my back, I'll laugh not cough.
Smash my nose, The blood will run.
Break my heart, I'm dead, done.
-H

My first real Ex

First i turned to begging,
Then i turned to sorrow,
Then i hated myself,
For reasons i knew few,
Then I thought fuck this!
I started hating you.


Your twisted lies,
To prevoke my smiles,
You made me feel small for fun,
Your jabs and jibes,
All included in your mental manipulation,


And then I hate myself again,
For wasting My time,
My love,
My body,
On you.
'cas now I realise that you never ment those words,
you commonly said
"I love you too."


But hey so what guys still think I'm fit,
I can do better than you,
You greasy bad of shit.

I am

I am two people
I am dull
I am bright
I can be blind
But I have sight
I am new
But I am old
I am thin
I am fat
I dont have style
But I have class
I am Nicola
but I am not
I am cold
But I am hot
I am shallow
I am deep
I have problems
But I can sleep
I am dirty
I am pure

I am so little
But yet soo much more

- Nicola x

At 1:00 in the morning

At 1:00 in the morning it's six in the evening
It's thirteen years and we still talk
no not talk type

When we made that hole on the fence that separated
our lifes after 5:30 tea times
we played cards through that hole
ate cherry pie
talked about trampolines and hot tubs
your parents would buy

Then the hole was gone
when you went away
new neighbors came and blocked our passage way
but we still talk though continents apart
because we still survive in our childhood hearts

through that hole i can no longer see
the smiling round cheeks of me childhood
friend Sopie

But at 1:00 in the morning and 6:00 in the evening
we still talk
no not talk type.
keep incontact vie facebook and skype


- Nicola x

The Ivanhoe Experiance

People shout, People chatter
People jeer and jab
People laugh People Love
People spit and splatter
But i walk

I walk from natter
walk from the chatter
I walk from the shoves and grunt
but when the people chant

I ran to the people and places that matter


- Nicola x

God

If you were to teach a torch to shine
it would blind eyes as the sun
If you were to teach fruit how to taste
it would sting the toung with sweetness
If you were to teach a man to love
his lovers heart would burst
and out would spill,
all the too much loviness of which he filled

to say you are amazing would be wrong to say with sound
you knoledge, skills and love should have never have been aloud

-Nicola

Down to the wire

Down to the wire
the brutal desire
to pretend, pretend, pretend
it is time to mask up
and push your reality down down under ground
into the grave
so the theatre can save? you?
Where are you in that costume?
Where are you on stage?
Where are you?
Where are you behind make up?
what part of you is within that mask


to dissapere, to pretend
you become who you want to be
dont you realise
you've been pretending with me?

Nicola Pope

'Lines Written on the Artwork of a Fourteen-Year-Old Me' - Brett Mottram

CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS
Exquisite corpse,
Collaged letters, hardened chef clenching a heart,
Polar bear, dart to the neck, a pretty watch.
Mein Kampf, the face of Hitler, a businessman
Smoking banknote cigarettes while the tape cuts off the files
And a woman's waist meets a fighting machine,
Shot at; bog bodies form sandbags.
Nothing is free. World of the Wars.
Racing hounds with drums strapped to their heads
Beside a scruffy, ink-line clown, sided by newspapers,
Facts and lies. A scenic landscape, tower blocks,
Sweeping steps, balcony nostrils,
Eyeless, searchlight-armed, glassy-walled building.
In an alleyway, a man lets his dear wife
Lean backwards while he gently eases a blade
Through the roof of her mouth.

I'm not designed for love.

I'm not designed for this,
I don't do love, hug or kiss.
I find my bliss.
Not skin to skin.
But shoulder to shoulder.
My heart's grown colder.
Solidified.
All love has died.
I tried.
I cried.
Pathetic whines
No more.
Boots on the floor.
I'm designed for war.
-Harry

I'm sick of caring.
Sick of staring.
While you're glaring.
My temper's flaring.
I'm a nightmare in-
carnated.
A suffocated.
Boy, deflated.
Aggravated.
You can't take it.
Away.
I may.
Stray.
And be gone forver and a day.
What you say?
You wanna play.
The game.
You'll wish that you never came.
I'm too un-tame.
Don't feel pain.
With an infected brain.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARH!
I've gone insane.
Smash my fist straight through that window pane.
And lay claim.
To the earth.
Since birth.
I've been dodgin' the hurse.
I'm a curse.
I destory all things.
Friendship, love, even one night flings.
Won't answer you when my telephone rings.
In a land of kings.
I'm a peasant.
Yes my language is unpleasant.
But I don't care.
I sick of caring.
-Harry.

Exhibition.

An exibition of my life...
Nothingness...
Secrecy...
Alone...
All in plain sight for you to see,
How truly lonely, I can be.



A quick short peom by Amber =)

What IF?

What if the girl sat to my right.
Liked.
Me as much as I like her.
What if I made her speech slur.
What if I made her chest burn.
When ever she looked at me.
What if, even though I knew how she felt.
I kept stringin her along.
I couldn't it'd be wrong.
What if she wanted me so much,
It hurt when I said.
"I don't see us bein anything more than friends."
What if she kept tryin,
And cryin,
Like an idiot when rejected.
What if she gave up.
I know I should.
I know it'll never happen.
But I'm wonderin,
What if...


BTW sorry for the negativity 2day, I just think it'd be better if non of you had ever met me, I'm not good for people. Sorry. Harry.

Sorted :)

Hello my lovelies :)

I've sorted out a room and time for us this year. We're going to meet every TUESDAY in B18, that's in the same English block, but downstairs. I spoke to the new head of English, Mr Hashim, who is kindly letting us use this room and is ready to support our future projects (the first of which is our board of course).

Secondly, anyone who is willing is invited to come along to Daljit Nagra's workshop on the WEDNESDAY 15 SEPTEMBER 4 - 5:30 in Leicester, with 2FunkyArts. This is a great opportunity, so I hope as many of you as possible will come along. Please let me know and I'll get you signed up.

Finally, the first meeting will happen on TUESDAY,14TH SEPTEMBER, in B18. Bring any writing you have done over the summer and we will have a share :P

Love & Poetry,

Tallie

Some days rain has character and honesty. Wide horizontal streaks slam their giant feet on the soggy fields, the peaty vegetable patches and the almost black asphalt pavement, as if to make a grand point – summer is taking early leave this year, so don’t even hope for more warmth.
This summer I spent falling in love – a brilliant follow up to the natural spring tendency. It was a collision of two careful caterpillars under glass jars – the personal armour built on negative experience sang in the breeze, as neither were brave enough to let the other past, knocking on each other’s self-preservation instincts. However, no material is eternal. Glass breaks, ice sculptures melt and caterpillars, mimicking snails, find themselves under another’s protection and home.
This is no caravan.
Still looking at the world from the upturned wine glass, which I shall leave willingly or unwillingly, liquid hotness spreads over my nose and eyes. It’s so familiar and expected, as if I’d written it for myself and I am following a poetry verse by memory.
The next morning I wake up with a baby shell, fragile, begging to be broken, for I am a human, not a titan.

Don't get too close.
You won't stop me takin' this over dose.
My heart has froze.
Everyone knows.
I'm too exposed.
That's why my speech flows.
From verse to prose.
My temper grows.
Then it blows.
I suppose.
This just shows.
The extent of my woes.
Weeping like willows.
Head on my pillow.
Down this pill. Oh.
There I go.
Out the window.
Street lamps glow.
Won't stop, no.
Won't come home.
Not 'till I've grown.
Leave behind my telephone.
I'll run alone.
Don't you moan.
Don't you groan.
Now that you're lone-
ly.
I've set myself free.
You could'a had me.
And now you'll see.
Three.
2
1
I'm gone.

-Harry

I'm a party animal.
An animal all together.
Whatever
The weather.
You'll find me unteathered.
Light as a feather.
See you're quite clever.
You'd probably never.
Get with me ever.
But indulge in pleasure.
There's no one better.
I don't meen to brag, but I can sever.
Your problems for a night.
I'll make you feel right.
You're such a sight.
Wearin' those tights.
Beautiful, bright.
You really are quite.
Atractive.
Now my mind's active.
And the fact is.
I can't talk to girls.
Everything blurs.
And I blurt.
My words.
Then I turn.
And leg it.
Like I'm runnin' from the law.
I can feel it my core.
That was poor.
Drink a bit more.
Then head towards.
The door.
Light up a cigarette.
Wipe away the sweat.
Take in a deep breath.
And try again.
-Harry

The Problem

No matter how clever you are in your head
All they want instead is some words on a page
Ignoring your talent in other areas just wanting words on a page
Shaping ,sorting and slotting people into areas like they are just faceless creatures.I choke on their red tape i spit on there idea of society
B?

Day Dream.

Goodbye everyone, it's been nice knowin you.
Time to fly the coop, and I'm damn well going to.
Flowing through.
In a brand new suit.
On my way from an interview.
Six digit salary and car to match.
Top floor pent-house in a real nice patch.
Alcohol from an imported batch.
Look at me now, I'm such a catch.
I got more money than I can spend in a life time.
So come n see me for the time of your life.
Whether you're single or someone's wife.
It don't matter when it's me you're astride.
When you guide.
My hand to your side.
My hand to your thighs.
Because you've got that naughty look in your eyes.
Look at the size.
Of the parties I'm at.
Would you look at that.
I made it on GCSE's
All these opportunities.
I seized.
I'm so damn pleased.
You wouldn't believe.
It was me.
And now you see me.
On the T.V
I'm famous.
And shameless.
With a reputaintion that's stainless.
And an ace career.
Reporters always near.
Spend cash with out fear.
Talk about my school years.
And thank my peers.
For making me this.
That lanky streak of piss.
All those hit's never missed.
And now you wish.
You have half of what I've got.
Well guess what.
You've not.

Then reality hits.
I just failed A levels.
Shit.
Lying in my pit.
Feelin dead and un fit.
I blew it.I knew it.
I didn't persue it.
Better get a hustle on.
Don't wanna be broke long.
Get my arse into gear.
Get my mind clear.
Maybe I need the fear.
To make me move.
So I can prove.
I didn't need them lessons to.
Get a job.
Where I earn lots.
I'll draw up plots.
To earn a livin'
I aint givin'
In again.
That's too plain.
And simple.
I'll get paid.
Amazin' amounts.
And by bank account.
Will fill to the brim.
And I will grin.
At the fact.
That.
I'll have millions.
My day dream made real.

Harry.

The politicians, they work on their sun tan.
While our boys give their lives in Afganistan.
Why don't we bring them home while we still can?
Or maybe the Government doesn't have a real plan.
They don't bat an eye lid at this conflict in the sand.
I just hope they know all the blood is on their hands.

I don't quite get what they're doin'
Or what real goal they're persuin'
They call it a war on terror.
But that's where they made the error.
They still plant bombs on the road side.
That's why so many soldiers have died.
So pull them out while they're alive.
While they're alive.

See, I wanna join 'n' fight.
But I wanna do it for a cause that's right.
I aint gonna gaurd someone's oil.
As that was a cause of this termoil.
Now there's men buried in the soil.
And the papers' go mad when they send in a Royal.
Like he's got some image he could spoil.
It's a load of hubble, bubble, toil.
And Trouble.

I don't quite get what they're doin'
Or what real goal they're persuin'
They call it a war on terror.
But that's where they made the error.
They still plant bombs on the road side.
That's why so many soldiers have died.
So pull them out while they're alive.
While they're alive.

Just get them home.

Harry

She said "I love you."
Well if that's true.
How come you.
Flew.
Withdrew.
I have no clue.
This hurts too.
Much for me.
Can't you see?
I'm on my knees.
Won't you please.
Listen, Seize.
My arm.
Marks of self harm.
An you're alarmed.
You're not calm.
You won't talk, or even look.
Why the fuck.
Did I pluck.
Up the Courage to spill my guts.
I'm in a rut.
Here I'm stuck.

I smashed myself.
Fuck my health.
Took a wealth.
Of pain.
Again.
Here it's plain.
To see.
The bruise on my cheek.
Hear me speak.
Cool metal pole, or a fist to the face.
Eithers good.
Both bring blood.
Now lie me down, under the mud.
Coffin closed.

Dig me up.
Wash off the mud.
Refill the blood.
And give me a hood.
To hide beneath.
I'm like a thief.
But all too nice.
To take my life.
By pill or knife.
I'll stay to fight.
And in the night.
You'll find me right.
Beneath the light.
In plain sight.
High as a kite.
As I bite.
At a reputation.
Of self mutlilation.
Look at the inflamation.
As it bleeds.
My flow it feeds.
My soul it pleeds.
To be set free.
Of this depression.
And aggression.
Harry

A freind

I heard crying before i knew who it was
The rage the sorrow the dissapiontment at there poor fortunes
I sat and tryed to comfort them but they wouldnt listen
looking in their eyes the usual glisten was missing
There idea of calming down was to drink and drink
The more of the devils liqour went down the throat of my freind
I want to stop him before it became a trend
so i took the bottle of him and threw it in the river
but it didnt land where id intended
it landed straight back in his hand
but me being his compaion his mate his freind
I refused to give in
B?

The Knights tale

The knight in shining armour
mounted up for the battle to come
He felt of pang of fear creep into his mind
But in his head he did find
a tiny scrap of courage and valour
He mounted his loyal steed
To ride ride into the heart of evil and greed
He kicked his mount into a charge
As he saw his foe charge towards him
As he travelled over the bones of his fathers
He knew he would join them in heaven
As long as fought against this terrible horde
until he could fight no more
he rode into the pages of tale and legend
the only importantance to him was his last few seconds
by B?

The more you, take from me.
The more I wanna give to you.
The more I'm put through.
The more I prove you wrong.
I'll show you all, that I am strong.

The more blood from my veins.
The more that I crave the pain.
The more that I want to die.
The more it makes me try.

I'm filled with love.
But is it really enough?
To keep me above.
Rock bottom.
I've forgoten.
How to smile.
It's been a while.
But open up the file.
I been down this road before.
Now I'm straying from the path.
Trying to find again how to laugh.

The more you, take from me.

The more I wanna give to you.
The more I'm put through.
The more I prove you wrong.
I'll show you all, that I am strong.

The more blood from my veins.
The more that I crave the pain.
The more that I want to die.
The more it makes me try.

I've been facing shit for too long.
This so fucking wrong.
I want it all to be gone.
Nothing but a bad memory.
Buried in a cemetery.
Burned.
I've learned.
To cope.
Walking this tight rope.
I could fall, with no safety net.
I wish we'd never met.
You think you know so much of me.
Let's see.

The more you, take from me.
The more I wanna give to you.
The more I'm put through.
The more I prove you wrong.
I'll show you all, that I am strong.

The more blood from my veins.
The more that I crave the pain.
The more that I want to die.
The more it makes me try.

Now I'm angry.
So damn anoyed.
It's a nightmare I tried to avoid.
Throwing myself.
Into hell.
Is the only way to quell.
This thirst.
This feeling.
That's reeling me in.
When I dream of seeling me in.
My own coffin.

But a few things, keep me calm.
One is a lot of self harm.
There's no need for alarm.
Another thing is my friends.
The brother like bonds.
That's lasted so long.
These help.
And then there's her.
Her smile.
Makes me smile.
She makes me laugh.
She makes me love.
She keeps me happy.
She cares.

And doesn't that just eat at your soul!
That you were the one, to never make me whole!

...Error please wait...

I been there before.
Knocking on death's door.
Banging on the wood.
You wish you could.
Froget this now.
But wonder how.
I came back.
From the black.
From the darkness.
No breath.
No breathing.
I was heaving.
Squeezing.
The life from me.
Now maybe you'll see.
What I mean.
I'll come clean.
I had to be brought back.
I never truly thought of that.
The fact.
I could be dead.
I have this now in my head.
I was weak.
I'd not want me.
Maybe.
That's why dad left me.
And wasn't there.
He couldn't bare.
To have such a sick son.
This is why I wanna run.
So many memories.
I want to lose.
Even the ones that involve you.
-H

What kept me?

Here in the dark.
I hear the poundin' of my heart.
And the body art.
That are.
These scars.
On my arms.
Dance by the fire light.
Calm.
As the night air.
Right there.
The knife again.
No longer pain.
As it punctures my skin.
And I leave it in.
The blood is thin.
Runnin'
Down the muscle fibres.

drip.

drip.

drip.

It's a trip.
I'm taking.
There's no mistaking.
And certainly no fakin'
When I'm breaking.
My own body.
When the bag's on my back.
Going to find a new pack.
Leaving when the sky is black.
Add in the fact.
That.
While I'm running from you.
You only have youself to blame.
For all the pain.
The shame.
I feel.
Non of this is real.
It's dream.
And I scream.
With the anger of the weakness.
The bleakness.
In the fact I turned around.
And came back again.
This hold they have.
Must break at some point.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It's my feet in the mud.
Running home.
Before.
They open my bedroom door.
And find my bed empty.
Here I have pleanty.
Of friends.
Family too.
There, I have the freedom.
To run by myself.
Be something else.
But still.
They pull me home.
Every time, I try to go alone.
And it's always in my chest.
The best and worst part of my anatomy.
A fact to me.
That always.
My heart.
Keeps me here.

Why I Stand in the Rain.

I love standing in the pouring rain.
Letting the water drip away the pain.
I know, I'm making no sense again.
But I love to see my reflection dissappear down a drain.
Love the way the water flows faster than the blood in my veins.
Splattering on window panes.
While I go through stuff in my brain.
My mind.
Is racing and I find.
That I seem to be blind.
To all the kind.
Actions and words.
They all become blured.
When I get lured.
Into a false sense of security.
That's why I prefer to be.
Alone in the day, and wild at night.
Where my soul takes flight.
And I no longer fight.
To be myslef, it feels so right.
When the moon is bright.
And the fire light.
Shows my true self.
That's been sat on the shelf.
The one you don't see.
You don't know me.
The one in the trees.
Can you please.
Stop staring, these.
Eyes of mine.
Stare back and see everything.
That you cling.
To, in an attempt to seem.
So much more clean.
That's why I stand in the rain.
To erradicate the pain.
Wash away the stains.
Like purification.
From Precipitaion.
And the relief that comes with evapouration.
Watch the steam rise.
With you wide eyes.
How time flies.
When you having fun.
When the rain runs.
From us both.
That's why I Stand in the Rain.
-H

I love forests, & I love trees
the oasis in the sun and the distant sea
feeling so at ease, saying what I think
I'm so consumed by everything
I love your kindness, I love your mind
warm and secure, losing track of the time
spray me with the hose, chase me down the street!
running through the aching trees
the smell of barbecues and kedgeree
looking back at times like these -
no one else could ever see what you made me see
so clear, pristine, in the sky of my mind
so naive, so kind, so thank you sweet
for letting me see the desert in me

far away

I will leave this place, as far away as possible
it's not abandonment, so please don't try & stop me - it won't work
I need space in time as minimal as possible

a new domain, a clean slate
a new space to erase
my fallen past - it's not much to ask
I want my name all cleared
I've had it planned for several years

they say write out your plans for life
and it'll make Him laugh until He cries
but I don't sympathise!
He gave us minds as thought-invites
RSVP, and reads replies

& if He should be listening now, I'd like a teaspoon of free time
I want to leave behind the heathens who constrict my mind
the cross that bears my name will crumble in impending flame

I will leave it all and never once come back again

I love the fact that I'm fucked up.

I love it.
Every bit.
The slit.
Wrists.
The belt around my neck.
As I'm standing on my chair.
The failed suicide attempts.
The want, no, need to run away.
The love that tears me to strips.
The "I don't give a fuck" attitude.
That's no more than a mask.
The alcoholic family tree.
The cousin who never made it.
The pain.
That stains.
My soul black.
The violent outbursts.
That have subsided slightly.
Though not without a fight.
The growling from under my hood.
The girls, who played with my heart.


And.
The family who devote so much to me.
The better side of that family tree.
The pain we have all shared.
The two cousins who are still there.
The friends.
Brothers some of them.
The large group.
The girl.
Who I want to be with now.
The laughs from outside the hood.
The happiness when I'm not angry.
The state of elation.
When I no longer want to end everything so much.
And still.
The goal of leaving.
Travel.
With my friends or not.
For now.
I am happy.
-H

The drums take me.
As I'm spinning.
In a drunken haze.
The lights flashing.
I'm drifting.
I'm lost.
I love it.
Laughing.
My head pounding.
People fly by.
My pack in the same state.
So much to take in.
As I growl at things.
That rip at my chest.
As the beer flows down my throat.
Howling at myself.
"Why am I not falling?"
I keep drinking.
Keep spinning.
Six pints, not including the two before we came.
Shots.
One, two, three, four, five!
Come on!
Keep spinning.
The drums in my ear.
Throwing my head around.
I can feel the anger fading.
everything I kept inside.
Going.
Leaving.
Unleashed from my soul.
I'm laughing.
Loving every second.
And the feeling carries through.
To when I'm back.
No longer drunk.
But still laughing
And loving every second.
-H

Confessions

I have secrets.

shallow inside, Compact. Each in their own little silk-bowed ribboned box.
wishing to brim out,
and spill.
Stories lapping at the air around
Space to expand and to deliberate upon wishes.

I have feelings,
raw and full of pain
the horrible,
the narcissistic,
the philosophical,
the kindred,

And I have left parts of me behind.
Parts that sometimes I wish were still here.
Parts that I know if I could only act on,
I would feel more free.
Because even those parts I have left behind.
They are still full of me.

No-one really knows.
People don't sit down
and say
'Tell me about yourself'
And I think that if they did,
I could not.
Or perhaps I would not.

Sometimes I would like someone to know.
I wish there was a right someone.
Then I could start to untie those little silk bows.

Why choose a Peacock, over a Wolf?

Why choose a Peacock, over a Wolf?

The Wolf, is the one, who stands by your side.
Was there when you cried.
The one you confide.
In.
And now you discard him.
Thrown away.
Left in pain.
Goin' over in his brain.
Everything he'd ever say.
To you.
He starts anew.
Forgets they ever knew.
You.

The Peacock.
Will not care as much.
Who walks around with such.
Elegance and grace.
Watch it race.
Away as soon.
As it is satisfied.
And the Wolf, to whom you cried.
Will be gone.
Moved on.
To another pack.
Not looking back.
It will have better.
Just wait and see.

Scream Silently

I'm so
utterly
sick of failing. I know this
is all voluntary, but
it doesn't seem to affect
the thoughts. I have
no real addiction, just a
desire which I can't be
bothered to supress. The
same contradictory
thoughts present themselves simultaeneously. Is this
an oxymoron? I think I
finally
understand doublethink... I want
to do it/ I never wanted
to do it. I lie to you and
promise not to do it
any more. Sometimes i
even say i dont
want to do it. But I'm
lying, as you
must realise by now... I lie
too much and I forget
which excuses
I've used before... Did I
blame the door already? What
about the frame? My
nose?

Do you expect me
to resist
tonight? I want the
taste and the intriguing
colouration. Please don't
tell me to stop. That and
the concern just adds
to it. I shouldn't
need this. I don't even know
why I do it. But it
doesn't seem to stop me.

So in the bath I advance
from nails. And enjoy the
clouds.

You must know but
you don't seem
suspicious. And now I've
lost them. All four. Shit.
Panic. Panicpanicpanic. Where?
Oh god oh god does
she know? Why hasn't
she said
anything?

I want to scream but
that would draw too
much attention. So
I scream silently.

Tom

Found this one from when I was all sad :)

Exactly what I need is

To let go of the needles
That stitch me back together
When everything's undone

Exactly what I need is
To let go of the evening
Your moonlight eyelids smeared
With promises of trust

Exactly what you need is
To let go of the muscles
That force your laugh to jingle
Whenever I'm around

Exactly what I need is
To buy my self a pet cat
And love it for its soft fur
And feed it whiskas food
Exactly what we need is
Belief that all we need is
In tea a drop of brandy
And anything but us.

-Tallie

I have a friend called Victoria and she observes people and then writes and sketches in a flowered notebook with ribbons securing it shut and blank pages. She speaks really quietly and sort of tries to get out what she wants to say as quickly as possible, covering her mouth with a relaxed hand but always smiling. I like her a lot. She notices important things about people. She sort of makes me think – like the time, a while ago, when she said ‘Everybody’s lovely’. If it wasn’t Victoria that said it, I would’ve thought to myself – ‘How cliche’, but now that I come to think about it, with a heart full like a balloon full of helium about to rise into the air, she’s right. It’s easy to go through life anticipating a trip-up. The thing is, it’s all physics. What I mean is, people meet, like two waves going towards each other at the same frequency and wavelength and get caught up. This forms a standing wave – it doesn’t move. There’s the maxima, the parts that oscillate wildly up and down – the anti nodes. There’s the minima, the parts in the middle that stay the same. They are what we look for. The minima. The parts that stay the same - even though both waves are moving.

-Tallie

I'm gone.

Logic and reason are lost to me.
While I'm dancing naked, through the trees.
Listening to sound, of the leaves,
As they quiver in the summer breeze.
Doing what ever I please.
While I seize.
This oppertunity.
To be free.
To test my body.

My senses at a new height.
While I dash around, in the moon light.
I think I might.
Lose myself and I like.
That thaught, I wont fight.
To remain human, is not right.
I'd rather let my soul take flight.
Into the night.

I'm gone.

I can't do spontaneous spoken word poetry

Spontaneity
Is cruel to me
I like being spontaneous physically
Like
Decide to run to the next bench
And




Stopping in random places.


-Tallie

:)

When they said ‘Chicago Rock’
I could smell no cigarette simmer
I could see no tattooed sinner
Screaming into the shattering mike

Centre roundabout empty and warm
Echo flapping of rats with wings
They are full of greasy Greggs
They are watching our stories mix

So sarcastic and bloody upfront
It erupts in my thunderous laughter
That reflects on the pavement and after
Circles into the BMX wheels

We are people with something to do
Them – to trick their bodies to balance
Screeching breaks and bouncing tires
A free circus of cycling guru.

What a way to spend a night
Do the twist under streetlamp torchlight
Figures flatter like lowering leaves
Sweeping writing on asphalt,
                                            I believe.

-Tallie

Lee

Hello Dad, I'm the son you left.
With a Mum bereft.
You didn't care for Steph.
What I don't get.
Is why you're upset.
You made your choice, you walked away.
Now look at you, old and grey.
And over weight.
I'll bet you hate.
The fact that I.
No longer cry.
That you're not here.
I shed no tears.
Replaced my fears.
With hate and rage.
Locked love in, a metaphorical cage.
Soon to be running away.
I'll probably, return one day.
But before I go, I want to say.
You've only got yourself to blame.
-H

You are one of my favourite people

She's a whirlwind with directile disfunction,
not knowing where she's going,
laughing all the while.
Stark.
Confidence of a king, a head full of clouds.
Three thousand boyfriends a year,
sampling them all, as if slices of cake,
apart from a special one, or two,
to give her the credit,
who she savours, and when devoured, cries at the absence.
She's a rocket with a halo of sparks, no angel by far, but then again,
far more innocent than she might first appear.

Insults bursting with love, secrets shared, a pair of explorers where there were no bounds, no limits.

A shooting star, a total embarrassment, pure energy, and a laugh with the occasional snort.
Tall and lithe, with the grace of a stumbling two year old,
Stories told, brimming with hyperbole, to entertain, to be loved.
and in those stories the line blurs with reality, and with the reality she wished would happen.
Most can't see that blurred line.
But those close to her see it with a sharpness that almost pains, but instead soothes.

A hereditary spark of childlikeness,
infectious.
And she's a crazily beautiful creature,
who's not about to slow down,
for the days, or the stars,
and thank goodness for that.

-HNR

Sorry.

I'm sorry if I offend.
All I want to do now is to make amends.

I'm sorry if I cause you pain.
Oh, look at that, I've done it again.

I'm sorry, I was never the son that you wanted.
I can't even ryme that, I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry that I didn't die.
All those times,
That I could.

I'm sorry that I keep having to apologise.
Please don't let this be where our friendship dies.

I'm sorry for acting the twat, it's my only defence.
I want to run, 'cause the pain in my heart is too immense.

I'm sorry I couldn't tell you this face to face.
Or figure out the right time, the right place.

Just generally.
I'm so, so, sorry.
-H

All alone, no one in sight.
Burning up as I try to fight.
The feeling.
Reeling,
Me in deeper.
Let this creature.
Run away.
The pain is too great.
As my heart palpitates.
And I rush.
To crush.
The love I feel.
I need to steal.
Myself.



I'll run.
Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
Further.
With the same heart beat.
To match the rythm of my feet.
As I pound away the earth.
Miles from my place of birth.
They'll disappear.
Along with me and all the fear.
I carried with myself.
Far from my family.
Far from my friends.
Far from my life.


If I come back.
You wont recognise me.
-H

Directnons

Sliding through my fingertips

rawred pain

holding on. holding on.

Till you can hold on no longer

then the rawred pain

hold on

It's gone. You've gone,

light flitters by

stormy insides

curling, unfurling

sickening

not physical

sickening, upheavals

'I mean, for you, whats home.'

And they say,

And when they say,

its rhetorical.

fucking rhetorical.

and its the same as falling

stormy insides

curling

unfurling,

dewdrops pouring

-HNR

Solitude

So here I am, at last.
A dog for company and the whole house is ours.
The family is away for a couple of days but my life should still go on as it
However when the house is empty like this I lose all interest in the house, I put the dog on a lead, pull on a jacket and head out to the hills just a mile away.
I arrive at my favourite place on the hill and the sun begins to rise, lighting up the land before me so I can see for miles.
As the light touches my face I let my thoughts go walkabout and reflect things recently passed.
My dog sits down beside me and looks in the same direction but I barely notice as I'm now lost in deep thought.
After delving through my latest thoughts and troubles and resolving them, I snap out of my stupour and walk down the hill to find a dry ptch of grass.
As I lie down I take note of how quiet everything before the sound of rush our traffic pollutes the area.
As I hear the first signs of rush hour I rise up and walk back him and rouse the dog who has also drifted off in the peaceful enviroment.
I look forward to the next day hoping for good weather so I can again enjoy the peace of being in touch with my inner-self.
Jim

Time to go.

I'm at the stage now, where I should be going it alone. Reseach it. Eventually we all leave our packs. It's where we run alone, for a time. The most likely time we'll die, through some way or another. It's when we run until we find our own person to run with. Or people. But usually, we find our soul mate. Start our own pack. Our own families. I need to run, away alone. From everyone. Find my own pack. It's hard, but, well, it's just nature. It's the way it goes. That's me, that's where I need to be.

“Our laughter kept the feathers in the air. I thought about birds. Could they fly if there wasn’t someone, somewhere, laughing?”

- Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
 
 
image from flickr.com

It's not when you're hurt that you suddenly cannot stop yourself crying.

It's not when you've been let down. Then - you wait it out, look the person in the eye and smile, then almost willingly, with a feeling of conviction and purpose let it out in the comfort of your home, in the capsule of your personal pill - your castle. A house or a park, a room or a cellar, you can often choose a place and time.

It's not when you've been physically hurt. The feeling of sucking up the spillage of pain when you fall over or hit your toe gives a feeling of bravery - like when you were little and grazed your knees and mum or nanny or grandma were there to give you a plaster and stitch the physical with the emotive.

No.

It's when you're leaving the country again and the father that time and again lets you down in tiny things and has an emotion span of a turtle, he offers to help you with the bags on the way to the station and then kisses you on the cheek. What do you do? Silly girl, cry.

to the heavens...

to the heavens..., originally uploaded by ucumari.

We are just

Misguided ghosts
Traveling endlessly

-Paramore

Montreal lit up, originally uploaded by caribb.

'Cause I'm just one of those ghosts
Traveling endlessly
Don't need no roads
In fact they follow me

-Paramore

, originally uploaded by `Madness ♥ K.

Things are looking up, oh finally!

, originally uploaded by zack attack▲.

'Honestly, can you believe we crossed the world while it's asleep?' - Paramore

It's just simply, love.

We're stood in a forest. Just me and you. I have you in my arms, and for once you are smiling.
I look up, above your head and smell the air. "Storm's coming." I say calmly. You do not find this in the least bit strange, or odd or any other word that describes what I have just said. You simply stay where you are, even when the rain starts to pour. Every drop a liquid kiss on your bare shoulders. Thousands of tiny explosions around us, as the rain bounces off of leaves, and branches. Lightning tearing the thick, dark clouds above in two, and the thunder, shaking the ground beneath our feet. Still, you are not at all bothered.
Most people do not like this weather. They are scared of it. The loud noises and the depressingly dark sky, and the never ending rain. Not us though. It's pure pathetic fallacy. The strom, is the love we bare each other. Full of a roaring, furious passion. It is the polar opposite to Shakespeare's Tempest. It's just simply, love.

, originally uploaded by zack attack▲.

People always think something's all true. ~J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

Liberation

Liberation, originally uploaded by zack attack▲.

It's funny. All you have to do is say something nobody understands and they'll do practically anything you want them to. ~J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye,

"I am difficult to love, and I know it. Very few people can put up with me, and I can’t blame them. I am a constant contradiction. I annoy myself."
♥♥♥


Rosie O’Donnel

All the people bobbling along

In a bus around a city to their

Watering holes

This peroxide blond

Fuchsia pink lips and concerned brows

She could be 35. She could be 20.

Definately avitaminised.

She looks me up and down

Like an art critic. Moves on to the bag lady

Aesthetics violated to the core.

Meanwhile we see a row of cut down trees

Shivering with their birchy zebra skin

Giraffe meets ostrich.

Then the bus would pass

The patriotic ducks that wouldn't leave

The dehydrated river

Oily feet. Graying lungs.

A ripped up seat. Crumbly oldie's sneeze

Accompanied by headphone bassline

Thanks! We're all into that stuff, I'm sure

Especially the blonde. Her flipped up U shaped lips

Give something of a vibe.

But any minute now the bus's breaks will screech

For the next stop at the local loony bin

Alas, most of us ready

For a new level of spring ecstasy.

-Tallie

Women say men are bastards that never know what they want and are fascinated by every female that moves but then females can also choose to notice everything that moves and it's not so bad then, cause there are the boys with kind eyes and the girls with wet hair on the tube, the glamorous bastard that looks like the modern smoked-out version of Dorian Gray and the pixie little compact music lover. Because sometimes it's like 'Whoa' your eyes meet, you notice another living firecracker and it makes your day.

-Tallie

March

I just got back from another walk.
Now I'm sat listenin' to human talk.
I feel so lost, I feel so alone.
This is not what I call, my real home.
I love this time of year, when it rains all the time.
Now these people look at me, 'cause I'm covered in grime.
And mud, and I'm drenched. Water drippin' off my hair.
Down my bare
Chest.
I've been running through the trees again.
Obviously in the pouring rain.
I love it. When the storm rages.
And I'm next to naked.
Just a pair of shorts and trainers on.
Out in nature, I'm completely gone.
I cannot put into words, what it is I feel.
So I'll leave you to imagine, what I know is real.
-H

Conversation

I over think.
you look at me for conversation
and I respond
s   l   o   w   l   y   .
First we must think of a response:
Who am I talking to?
What is suitable for this situation?
The response is formed.
Is it a good response?
I do not know. Start again. What am I trying to say?
Iforget.
My mind argues with about the merits of thisreply, or thatreply
As Itry toremember whatthequestion is im trying to answer
The pause lengthens and you await your reply
Stop looking expectant…!
as my mind continues to circle madly.

I don’t want to talk



Iwanttoscreamandcryandcurlupintoaballonmybedandcurlupsotightlyicrushmyselfintoasingularityanddissapearorhideinthewardrobewhereisthelion?clawingatmyskinithastogoGOmynailsarentsharpenoughwhitelinefadeandreddenstopitno breath.


One.

Two…




what comes next?


Red…
Red..
Red.

my eyes itch…







Smile weakly and nod.



Walk away.

Don’t run.





Later, it occurs you never spoke to me either.

This is an extreme version of how think. I was thinking of drawing it as a flow chart but i foget what shapes all the boxes have to be. And its easier to have the rant in the middle like this =P

Tom (M)

I deleted my older ones.

I deleted the ones from the heart.
Most of them, it's a start.
I need to start a new.
They brought back too.
Many memories of you.
I miss my old pack.
I realy wish to have them back.
When we were free.
Just you 'n' me.
Beneath the trees.
Now I drift, like the lone one again.
Filled with rage and love and pain.
I'm in love right now.
How.
I let this happen I'll never know.
Maybe I need to go.
Run far away.
Come back one day.
Let me know how you feel.
See if this is real.
See if you change your mind.
I'd be so good for you, just give me a try.
-H

'Someone like you

And all you know

and how you speak'

Hello another one :)

I'm not the greatest at changing gears

Sometimes I forget the need to pedal
I make the bike sneeze, trip and cough out
The fractions of the abandoned speed

I like to cycle on the pathway
Scaring the dog walkers and children
I feel like a total expert biker
In that aerodynamic clingy gear

I'll dodge past them with a smug look
And continue on towards the river
Speeding by around the corners
Narrowly missing the friendly edge

Sometimes I think if I didn't miss it
It'd bounce back on the rubber resistance
The mosaics would skim the water's surface
Cupping and spilling the clear wet

Maybe the bike would get even drunker
On the freezing cold content of the river
We christened it foolishly by the name 'water'
And promised to keep it calming still

With ethanol joy it would set flight
Up up left, down left, down right
If there aren't any birds with which to collide
We'll continue successfully.

Planes

Step aside!
 
- Tallie

Only if you've breathed tiredness in a back seat
Of a car, taken home by an 'L', gliding over
Blurry country lanes;

Only if you paused to fill up petrol to the throat
Its homely city scent did penetrate your very spleen
Hello polluted motherland

Only if you had added extra layers to your veins
Conveniontly close to hungy ones
Cholestrol quater poundsers

Only if you had shaky knees - uninsulated creepy cool
Of dust and music in a cosy shed, nodding along
To this live decandence

Would you have noticed condensation tears of laughter
On the side mirror

Those funny H2Os were winking wildly to reassure
That learner.

They fell asleep, then being followed, woke
They scintillated more than radium

Not one a perfect circle, hundreds grouped
Escaping golden halos

Roaring stadium.

Those diamonds
I consider gifts.

Who needs them on their fingers, ears, chests?
Why go to Tiffanys?

Only if you have had a wide-lung
Evening, such as this

Don't let the gold rush fever go amiss
Come hither, search,
Look out

For these treasures.
 

- Tallie
 
 
 
Guys, your poems this week have been breathtaking!
<3

being ill
it's a media phenomenon
it's being rail thin, and gaunt
and sipping red bull through a straw.
it's exhausting yourself with glamour
dupioni and haute couture.
it's knowing that everything will fit
but pretending not to,
as you bask in your significance
where business is proof of adoration
and the fatigue is your reward.

it's thinking kate moss is fat.
smugly
with razor sharp ribs.
angles aside, the epitome of unearthly apartness,
your alleged autotrophy
channeling hepburn with a cigarette.

it's the illusion of having no earthly requirements,
but sheer tights and a monthly vogue.

so clear - if only
I'm sorry.

it's the desperate fight to hide
the unbearable weight of existence
tentatively avoiding floorboards and crowds -
and the humiliating need for nourishment

it's spending hours in a supermarket, to avoid human sight
have I the right to buy?
the incriminating evidence

the adulation drive
bonbons and chanel no 5
the daydream of a more restrained self.
in the morning, it begins
and disappears as lithely as it came

it would like to be a disappearing act
but got stuck with the relay --
running from one place to another, indecisive, like one between two lovers.
one jilted, for composure or gluttony - the vows are made
but they won't last. keep the other for when you get desperate.

Today I feel raucous
and to Mia I go.

it's the battle between you, food and human contact
the comforts for which you long, but reject:
I need you / I do not need you.

it's the indulgence of the hearty, whole and sweet
soft, like an embrace or old memory
taken down and quickly removed
with a shotglass of syrup of ipecac.
retribution - and as you catch your breath,
wondering if it was really worth it

and - in truth
it's being needy, but alone
perilous, but never saved
it's about looking your worst, and worse when nobody sees
the mortification when the desired response is found lacking.

it's simple reconditioning. lather, rinse, repeat.

it's a cry for help,
by denial of basic wants - because they are only wants
and you are never in need.

It's being too fat for sleep or a raincoat
about weeping at your own reflection
and genuinely believing you will not fit through the door.
it's telling everyone you've got a bug,
when, to be frank, you just want to lie in bed and feel your oesophagus rot.

it's dreaming of overnight surgery
for a gloriously clattering set of bones.
how many pounds is that?

it's losing faith in everything
healthcare, humanity
the drivel on the radio --
it says nothing to me about my life

what's the use in perfection?
I can't achieve it, or your 10-week plan
for 'normality'. it's just rehab,
humiliation
a constant cloud of failure,
fire and panic. I can't afford it,
pocket or esteem
for that matter, but I beg
will life ever be sane again?
will they ever understand?

it's not thinness
or trauma, or control,
the usual suspects.
it's quenching the emptiness
a melange and realising that,
despite your efforts,
that frantic search for the light,
you will never quite escape
from the shrieking child inside
the battle between id and superego
and that poor dog in between

the shame, the numbers, that hollowness - 
it never quite goes away
so until then

 - just hold it all in


--------
it's really not a shock that so many people misunderstand eating disorders. it's eating disorders awareness week (has been since monday) so this was one of this week's pieces. I've got some I'm happier with, including a couple of tunes, so I'll see what I can do with them. - tor

Shakepeare in Modern Times

Othello tells us of the moor of Venice and his wife;
Hamlet, of the Danish kin, and his tragic loss of life.
Romeo and Juliet shows star-crossed lovers who,
rather than to live apart, would rather death pursue.

Their Bard, who walked upon the Earth, has walked with King and Queen,
And shown the world is all a stage, and made The Globe his scene.

But

Shakespeare never saw the moon in nineteen sixty-nine.
He never saw the two great wars, or heard of 'Walk The Line.'
He never heard of JFK upon that grassy knoll,
And never heard of four young lads, or heard their rock or roll.

The modern world is very strange, and built upon the past.
But there's more of it now then there was back then - a different acting cast.

So

While Shakespeare tells us many tales of morality and woe
There's more to life than dead man's tales, written too long ago.

-S

(TL;DR: Stop taking Shakespeare so seriously, Educational System!)