Twins.sniwT
One strong.gnorts enO
One weak.kaew enO
Arguing.gniugrA
Fighting.gnithgiF
Never knowing.gniwonk reveN
Who is best.tseb si ohW
Twins.sniwT
Identical.lacitnedI
Seperate.etarepeS
The same.emas ehT
Tag: Writing
No Time
Time is running far too fast for me. I’m so busy doing something that I’m tired and I’m getting worn out. That’s why I haven’t been here much over the last few days..
Anyway I will try and catch up over the weekend. I enjoy writing and would miss it if I didn’t blog or write poems.
My Instagram and Facebook pages are also being neglected but I can’t help that. I will try and post more later when I’ve recovered a bit.
X
Make me paint!
I need to paint. I’ve had a break, partly self enforced because I was busy and tired and lost my way in doing other things like blogging, plus it’s been winter and it’s too cold and dark. I was doing lots of things as hobbies too. But I’m nervous of spending too much of dwindling resources. I’m scared of putting a toe back into the world of work. I want to be helping people as well as painting.
The cliff edge is looming and I want to take a step back. Writing here is allowing me to explore ideas and thoughts that I have never been able to do before. It’s all very gentle and kind and I’m afraid I’ve found a cosy space that allows my dreams, but perhaps I have to let go and try harder in the real world. I’m saying I’m an experimenting artist so I need to do that….. Give art a chance.
X
Tranquil – from Sue Vincent’s weekly #writephoto prompt.
Funny how the light shines in this glade she thought. The trees and the beach look pink and purple. It must be the weather. Then she looked up to where the sun should be, but the star she saw was red, like the sun when you see it through thick clouds on the horizon. But this star was small and high up in the sky. She could tell it wasn’t her sun. You could actually look at it without being blinded.
She tried to remember how she had got here, what had happened to her? All she could think of was the lights in the sky the night before. Not meteors but green flashes, like falling fireworks. Yes, then something had lifted her up and everything had gone dark and silent….
Where am I? Where have I been brought to? she thought, this place is so peaceful, so quiet. Then she realised what was missing, birdsong, insects churring, the everyday sound of traffic… Wherever she was she knew now it was alien. It could not be Earth.
Written in response to Sue Vincent’s Thursday #writephoto prompt here
Calligraphy
A couple of years ago I went to a calligraphy workshop. As well as doing English Calligraphy we also tried doing Arabic script (I don’t have much memory of it). I do remember we used sticks cut down to make a chiseled edge to write with. Then like children learning the alphabet we wrote each letter over and over again until we started getting the shapes right.
I enjoy drawing patterns so it was really interesting to see how this style of writing worked. The artist who taught us showed us some beautiful calligraphy. Unfortunately I did not take any photos of his work. Calligraphy is clearly an art in its own right. I would love to learn more.
Boarded up
He woke up in darkness, the window he has climbed through last night was now boarded up. He was alone in the barn, but his hands were tied behind his back. He heard a quiet rustling in the straw. A squeak and he realised there were either rats or mice sharing the space with him…..
Everything had been quiet when he had crept into the barn about 8 o’clock the previous evening. He’d been setting up the camera when something or someone had hit him on the head.
What the hell do I do now? he thought. I’m stuck.
He glanced about and he saw something black in the corner, an old scythe? Yes stck under some sacking. It was so easy in mystery stories. Just rub against the blade and escape…. Two hours later he’d got through one strand of rope, his wrists were bruised and cut and he was sweating with the exertion of trying to escape. If he ever got out of here he would have words with his mates…
This was not how a stag party was meant to go!
Coffee and cream?
Hot coffee with cream, a slice of black forest gateaux. She sat and stirred the cup, hearing the spoon tinkle against it.
Only an hour ago she had been running to catch the bus into town. She’d told Al that she was meeting a friend….
This isn’t a trashy romance story, she told herself. Just a meeting with an old friend. But she couldn’t help feeling excited. He’d sounded just the same on the phone as he had all those years ago at college.
The cake was delicious, but she only tasted it, she was too nervous to eat. Too many butterflies in her stomach, too much anticipation and anxiety.
Oh god, she thought. I’m too old for all this, what will I say? Should I put some more lipstick on? She was also thinking about Al. How could she tell him about this. No it would be her little secret.
It was half an hour later, he was 20 minutes late… He promised he would be there. She remembered a tall young man. Long hair, a leather jacket and jeans. Black doc marten shoes….. Where is he? She thought.
Just then the glass door opened. She saw a once tall man, now stooped over. A bald head, what hair that was left was grey and in a ponytail. A walking stick, a gold medallion.
She decided not to say hello. As he walked into the room she went to the counter to pay her bill. On the way out of the door she felt mixed guilt and grief. Had she done the right thing?
She looked in the window and caught her reflection. Her once slim body was wider now, her hair not just grey, but white. Oh well she thought. At least I have Al.. …
Books
Book avalanche ….
I once had one book.
That wasn’t enough,
Then I had two
One too few?
So I got three
Which I read in a tree.
Soon I had four
How many more?
Five or six, a feast
No seven at least,
Enough for a shelf?
With my twelfth….
Once I had forty
I felt rather naughty.
Just a few more
Came through the door…
Once I read paperbacks
Now I’m on hardbacks,
My addiction is growing,
The books they are flowing.
Trying to count ’em
How can I stop them?
Over one Thousand?…..
No space for me and
My cats.. .
Copper Tears
Now there once were giant people throughout the lands. The Southern Giants were strong and smart, they were made of copper and bronze and shone in the sunlight. But the Northern Giants were also strong, and as they lived in the winter lands they were made of ice as hard as Iron. They could breath ice and snow when they fought. Because of this they were known as the Ice Giants.
After many years of war, Ralf, King of the Southern giants went to fight with them. He knew that if he did not win his lands would be forfeit and his wife would be killed by his enemies.
Lora, his wife, was scared when he told her his plans, but she knew he would have to go to save their fellow giants.
She watched him leave and cried tears which fell into her lap and made a huge pool of liquid copper, each tear making a ripple many feet high.
As she waited she thought she heard him calling her, she stood up and the copper spilled onto the ground, making a lake of copper at the base of the mountains where they lived.
Meanwhile in the North the Giants fought each other to a standstill. Ralf was winning, but as the battle came to an end one Ice Giant hit a fatal blow against him. He was dying but he hit back and felled the last Ice Giant.
His wife foresaw his death and started to weep again, she could not bear his loss. Her tears flowed over the land. Then the wind strengthened from the North. Forcing Lora to stand and start to run from its freezing grip. She was so tall that her tears fell from such a great height that they froze solid and shattered as they hit the ground.
It is said that there is a land in the south where her tears sit like trees in a forest, they are so many. And if you are far away you see the autumn colours of their copper and bronzes glinting in the sunlight.
Spoonerism
Definition from Wikipedia :
“Spoonerism
A spoonerism is an error in speech in which corresponding consonants, vowels, or morphemes are switched (see Metathesis) between two words in a phrase.[1][2] These are named after the Oxford don and ordained minister William Archibald Spooner, who was famous for doing this.
An example is saying “The Lord is a shoving leopard” instead of “The Lord is a loving shepherd.” While spoonerisms are commonly heard as slips of the tongue, and getting one’s words in a tangle, they can also be used intentionally as a play on words.”
I only mention this as I was talking to the cat this morning and said “you’ve got pappy haws this morning”. Of course I meant “happy paws” but it struck me how often you can get words mixed up ….
I don’t know how much I will be online over the next couple of days, so I will say Yappy Hew Near! Or Nappy Yew Hear!
Mallaband-Brown 