Poetic Thoughts #6

It’s been a while. Please forgive me. I’ve been doing an awful lot of things like applying for and not getting jobs, tutoring a bajillion kids, organising flights and travel insurance and visas and vaccinations and itineraries for my trip to South America at the end of the year and doing many, many chores as punishment for … being spontaneous.

There’s nothing quite like being spontaneous though. I’m able to because I’m still a kid. I think my parents are jealous.

So. Sorry. Poetry time. Love you like the ocean.

*

I weave lies like a spider’s web and they stretch across the space between us

Blur your vision, colour it, so you can’t see me

And it’s beautiful, so delicate, full of good intentions

Canvassing the connections, and eaten by the sea.

I took a green and purple scarf to tie us apart

Trying to be perfect but there’s nothing but the deep

And it’s so dark and you’re so fragile and it all fades together

We won’t be able to yell out as we’re eaten by the sea.

Have you ever stayed cold for an entire night?

My hair was in a ponytail so it couldn’t dry

And the sea salt painted on me made my skin feel so tight

But oh it was so lovely being eaten by the sea.

*

(regrets are for losers.)

x

Happiness in General and Poetic Thoughts #5

I’m happy – despite no longer coming first in modern L -- and it’s because I have very nearly finished my extension two draft (it needs editing, but I’ve only got a few more words to write write and then I’m GOOD), and I’ve helped Jermione finish the year 12 Chronicle report and it’s lovely, I think, and I had chocolate ice cream for dessert with bits of raspberry liquorice cut up in it. I came up with that idea myself. (I had to spend a long time thinking of how to spell liquorice and dessert. Both are difficult words to spell. I used to be so good at spelling too. It’s a real shame.)

Trials are scary – we got our timetable and I have Modern (three hours) and Drama (90 mins) on the same day – although I know people with six hours of exams on one day so I really can’t complain. Plus no one really cares about drama theory ... I think :S so that’s nice.

Also, it’s almost holidays – sorry, I meant “holidays” because these holidays are going to be pretty full of work. You should see the timetable I drew up though, it’s so pretty and organise-y. Purple for fun, blue for school-related excursions, green for study, pink for homework, and yellow for other. It’s sort of beautiful. And when I can’t decide whether something is fun or a school-related excursion (such as Kate and Chloe and me having a GP day sometime) I’m going to do a multi-coloured swirl.

So, a poem for you because I’m happy, and because I’ve officially titled this post “Happiness in general and Poetic Thoughts #5”:

Wishful Thinking

I wish I were my dog, her name is Maude.

She sleeps all day.

Sometimes she goes for walks.

Sometimes she eats.

But mainly she sleeps.

I would be Maude and I would sleep all day and eat sometimes and walk sometimes and I would get really really fat.

But I wouldn’t mind.

Because I would be a dog.

(I don't believe you are, as of yet, acquainted with Maudie. This is she, in younger, cuter days. Just kidding, she's still adorable of course.)

Poetic Thoughts #4

Okay technically these thoughts are actually a song that I wrote on the bus on my way home tonight, and technically they aren’t actually anywhere near poetic, but I had fun. I was bored, and needing something to do. Lou and I went to Chatime again this afternoon and spent a long time drinking really sweet tea and ‘studying Trotsky’ and eating her Korean potato noodles with chopsticks – and when I say chopsticks, I actually mean straws that we stole from the counter and used as chopsticks, because we’re resourceful and all. I mean, we’re like Man vs. City, and we beat the city every time man.

So yeah, ‘poetry’ that’s actually a song. Imagine the tune from Playschool for ‘There’s a spot over here and a spot over there and a spot on your ear and a spot in your hair …’ if you know that song. J

It’s called To the Boys at the Back of the 436: An Ode

In their hoodies and trackies the boys at the back

Are chewing their gum as they sit in a pack

And they shout and they swear and they cat-call at me

It’s a bus, please don’t cuss you’re not even hotties.

It’s dark out and lonely I’m not in the mood

To be winked at or hit on or share air with some dude

Don’t come close don’t dare boast you’re not even a catch

For my year eight self-defence trust me you’re no match.

So we’ve reached a point now there’s no turning back

Or your lad mates will tease you well that’s simply slack

That’s right your Pig Latin won’t make you more tough

I don’t swear I don’t care won’t you please uck-fay off?

Love you in a similar proportion to the dislike I feel for the lads at the back of my bus.

x

Poetic Thoughts #3

Some People

Some people can sing and some people can’t

Some people are thin and some people aren’t

Some people are short and some people tall

Some people can dance and some people fall

Some people eat cheese and some people diet

Some people are loud and some people are quiet

Some people walk and some people run

Some people pretend while others have fun

Some people are scared so some people protect them

Some people cheat so others detect them

Some people stay home, some have adventures

Some people have good teeth and some people have dentures

Some people laugh and some people cry

Some people tell the truth but everybody lies

And everybody is born and everybody dies

And everybody wants but not everybody tries.

Some people are people and some people are people

Some people are people and the rest are all people. 

(P-E-O-P-L-E. The word has lost all meaning J) 

A Peace out my friendsies.      A

Poetic Thoughts #2

*The first one was Poetry for a Rainy Day J

A door is a door is a door is a door

If that door’s in the wall and not in the floor

A door in the wall is a door that’s for sure

But a door in the floor is no more a door

If you open a door in the wall you’ll recall

On the other side will reside the door’s other side

But if you open a door in the floor please recall

You may fall though the newly made hole in the floor.

I'll write more soon.  It's almost holidays YAY and I have a nice long existential rant for you, who I love a lot ... hence:

Love you more than a door in a wall.

xx

Poetry for a Rainy Day

Oh I wish I had an umbrella

A brolly or ‘brella for two

Umbrellas for one

Are dry, not fun

I’d like to spend damp times with you

x