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Without ‘Monster’…#poem#poetry

With my headphones on,
and the iPod charged.
I check in my wallet,
for my list prepared.

Music then selected,
a fast beat is the track.
This time I remembered,
spare bags in my backpack.

Trolley coin inserted,
fasten wont let go.
People now glance over,
putting on a show.

Trolleys they do clatter,
chain it makes us stop.
If released by magic,
I can start my shop.

I don’t want to be here,
So I will go round fast.
Memorised where items live,
so grab em on way past.

Why do people stand right there?
Block the isle and chat.
Don’t they have a cafe here?
Thats the place for that.

Would I like to go on past?
Why yes I think I would.
Why are you even asking me?
I’d pass you if I could.

I’ve done my shopping quickly,
I’m almost through the till.
Payment process just as quick,
card tap pays the bill.

Another shopping trip complete,
another trial is passed.
It never used to be this way,
twas simpler in the past.

But now my mind plays tricks with me,
and alters my perception.
Puts a danger everywhere,
I know not what’s deception.

So if you see me fly on by,
like if I’m on a slalom.
I do it not to be “How rude”
Bad day, I beg your pardon.

Poem 1 of 2
A § M
11/7/2017

Reflections…Week Twenty Seven.

canstockphoto8630797My name has been passed along for consideration for an exhibition of writing, not a big exhibition as in National, but exponentially bigger in regards that one has even been considered.

My writing, has in the past, been subject to ridicule in one form or another. The only times I got detention was for my spelling or punctuation. English Literature was rejected as a subject, by the teacher, due to my inability to make legible a dip fountain pen. And ones attempt to further my writing skills at a creative writing class had me pulled to one side and told my English was not up to standard, I never went back, It was supposed to be a fun class.

So here one is, my writing’s being praised, especially my poems, and with it comes a kind of empowerment. One may not believe that my writing is good enough to win competitions, but it is good enough to be a contender, a far cry from where I was at the start of the blogging process.

The start of the journey was to ‘get out’ thoughts and feelings, to rid myself of demons in a way. It has adapted to thinking deeply about emotional connections to circumstances locked away in ones past, and to see how those patterns are now effecting the present. Some dots are connected quickly and some need more ‘digging’,  but it is supposed to be the journey that matters.

One thing is for certain, I believe that Miss Ross, and I am sure it had a H in it (Rhoss), was the best english teacher I had.

To prove a point, though a point is not needed, I have been looking at my old term book. Here are the differences in my educational history – teacher reports for english…

  • Feb 83, Andrew has made a satisfactory start to this years work.
  • July 83, Andrew has worked hard and has made some progress.
  • Then came along the teacher one does not have fond memories of.
  • Jan 84, Good- Andrew has worked hard and made pleasing progress. He must however improve his spelling and handwriting.
  • July 84, Spelling and handwriting show little improvement and are now sadly having a serious effect on his results. Oral work is very good indeed. (Why does this end statement seem like it was total surprise?)
  • Along comes the split to  Lit.(the above teacher) and Lang. (Miss Ross . Miss Ross also does the reports from now on.
  • Feb 85, Andrew genuinely tries hard – but his spelling is weak. He should read as widely as possible – This would help!
  • July 85, Andrew has achieved a very pleasing grade within his group in Language. He will not however be continuing the G.S.E. Literature course.
  • Jan 86, Andrew has always worked extremely hard and has produced some good work within this group, throughout this course.

I highlighted the two reports, nope, there is nothing outstanding about any of them, to show the two completely different approaches to teaching. The fist is to hammer away – “you will do it this way!!!” and the second is to find the way that best suited the student. My way was to read, a lot.

I have always found solace in a library; could this be due to the fact Miss Ross’s class – was held in the school library?

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

Reflections…Week Twenty Six

canstockphoto8630797There has been no poem published this week, not because one has failed to write one, truth be told I have done two, but because one was written for a competition and I have been told to enter the second when the category allows it.

The competition I wrote the first for was closed before I finished it, one gets confused with the way dates are backwards in the states. It could have been entered late; at a cost, but it will be kept until the next free one comes around.

What I found bewildering was the rules, the poem had to unpublished, including blog site, not entered into any other competition at the same time, and not a previous winner of a competition, all fair enough. However the closing date was for the end of June and the draw date the end of August, this year, but the poem had to abide by the unpublished rule until the end of March next year??? Whats that all about?

No publishing deal was on the cards for the winner, just a $100, so why the seven month after ban? Could you technically win and five months later be disqualified if you posted it on your blog? What do they do with it in those seven months? And if you don’t win are you still bound by the time period?

It could have been a one off, rules that where over cautious to that site, but it’s not. Even my local library has similar rules for a writing competition its holding. That one is for a short story, 350 words I think, one is entering, it will at least be a challenge to get exactly 350 words, let alone a beginning, middle and an end.

But I am going to have to also write, as a side note, the dates they have to be hidden until.

It makes no sense to me.

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

Living life by Loving Yourself- A guide to “SELF LOVE”

Living life by Loving Yourself- A guide to “SELF LOVE”

MaxHapp+

Everyone in this world gets upset when others criticize them. Everyone is feeling demotivated in different fields of life. All this comes by “Not Knowing Yourself” as well as by “Not Loving Yourself”. By being aware of your capabilities and qualities, you can bring happiness and love in you life. “SELF LOVE” is the door to happiness so just welcome it in your life.

HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT YOURSELF IN ABSENCE OF SELF-LOVE 

Before making the entrance of Self-Love in your life, you must be aware of  how you think about yourself on the physical and inner level.

Physical level:  Comparing our physical appearance to others have become part of our daily life. As soon as you see someone beautiful than you,  you think that other person is better than me. Which is not true at all. Through self love you can eliminate these…

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reflections…Week Twenty Five

canstockphoto8630797Today I have come back from a weeks holiday with family, and it has just                       re-affirmed the idea I could live in a small space.

The living/dining/kitchen area was approximately 18′ x 12′ and this was roomy for four, large for two and when I was on my own, it was huge. The ceiling was about 7.5′ at the apex and it did not at any point seem low. The bedroom was the usual size but this is not really relevant, this will become clear in a little while.

The second toilet was a bit close in, about elbow room each side and no chance to pick up anything by your feet, flushing, washing hands and drying on a towel was a twizzle around, the flush behind, sink, little too big for the space, to the left and towel to the right. The other shower/ toilet was a little wider but the sink cabinet got in the way of my left leg, the shower was wide, but the head was over to the left, you could stand on the right to be out of the water spray, there was this weird little shelf in the middle that frankly just got in the way of my right hip.

On the outside was a space for a shed at the back, a 10′ x 6′ shed, and by the side was a patio area,10′ x 10′ with grass, 40′ x 10′, in front of that and to finish the outside tour, the car had a space at the front to park so lets say 6′ x 22′.

This works out at around the same square footage as the last house I lived at, including the outside. The caravan was also a three bedroom sized one, this is why the bedroom sizes are not relevant nor the toilet size, they could be altered within the space, But, and this is a big but, all this space would not be equal to the downstairs volume as the ceiling in the house was 11′ tall and then it had the upstairs and then the loft space. So cheaper to heat.

The following is from several conversations…

But that’s not big enough for a family! I have had this statement when talking about tiny houses, and this would not be a tiny house, just a small one.

It’s not for a family, it’s for one maybe two people.

But what if they want a family?

They would not be looking at this house.

But if they want something small they can get a flat!

They want all the outdoor space, the storage, the patio, the veg plot area and a place to park their car. You can’t get that with the flat. Oh, and they want to own the land and their home, cheaply, with the opportunity to be semi sufficient with resources.

You have to compromise, if you want all that you need to buy the family house.

So what you are saying is a single person or a couple that could easily live in a home this size and have the outside benefits, needs to have the expenditure of the larger size building that they don’t need, are to have the running cost, or rather waste, of heating/lighting space they don’t need or use very little and have less space outside, that may be in the shade due to the house height? Which would impact the heating/lighting cost.

Also if the home was smaller, they could work less and live more. And with these changes, even with a car, their environmental impact would be much, much, smaller. Growing 10% of their food would also reduce their environmental impact too.

Oh, I suppose..but it’s still not a family home.

Let me ask you this question…

Did you leave your mums as a married 2.5 child family? 

If the answer is no, then there is a need for an affordable small house. There is a want for them and the future will require them. There are lots of empty plots of industrial/residential land around me, some have been this way for years, why are the small houses or static caravans for homes coming up against such resistance? Taxes could be paid the same as for the family houses and they could be connected to the grid just the same. We accept the idea of caravan parks for holidays, even owning one for such, but to live in??? Unacceptable!

At some point the penny will click. Usually it appears just after retirement, when the time has gone past.

But here is the kicker for me, I’m an antisocial person who seems to be drawn to a lifestyles that have a community base at its very core. Maybe it’s because they seem like me. Or have I become more like them?

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

 

Reflections Week…Twenty Four

canstockphoto8630797

Yes this is late, sea fishing has taken over the weekends time. Nothing has been caught that has been plate value, apart from the shrimps, but fish did get caught, then released.

Not wanting to get my notebook covered in black lugworm juice, stinky, I left it at the caravan, but doing this meant missing those ideas that seem to randomly pass through one thoughts. This is usually when I work out the verse for a poem or a good subject to write about, I know they are good because I’m happy with them, that is always remembered, but bugger me if the original thoughts can be recalled when pen is in hand.

This week is no different, my thoughts are constantly working on this weeks poetry subject. Again it is another stinker set by the ‘tutor’, and once again I could see no way to write it. The method that I use is long winded to say the least. The first part of the process is to just dump words onto a page that I feel are connected to the subject. Next is to work out how I want to ‘theme’ the poem, these are also just splurged onto the page, I admit this initial work looks like a monkey has grabbed a flash card set and thrown it down, but somewhere in this process is the birth of the poem.

Once I have gotten the theme sorted then the process moves to what I want to say in it, reflecting and including many of the words from the first process. This then has to be applied to the theme loosely, as the two parts are still separate, joining them will be in the writing of the poem (draft 1).

Now as a beginner writer this is the biggest hurdle, especially in writing poems, is my lack of knowledge of the subject of forms, rhythm and metre that causes me the most anguish. The ‘tutor’ dislikes me talking in this way, but it is how my mind works. Part of my problem is dismissing work as ‘less than’, no matter what the project. Not wanting to fail, I try and force learn the subject, not healthy I know, for example:- I do not understand the modern form of poetry and as such the ‘whole’ of the poem is lost to my mind, which is busy trying to make it fit into the rhyming form that I know as poetry. Hence the unnecessary cramming.

The poetry class is not a formal class so the technical aspects are not taught, the whole process is supposed to be just to express through words – feelings, nothing is incorrect. This does not compute with me. So I agonise for self punishment. I cannot see this changing now, only the expanding the forms I know.

I suppose this in itself is ‘loosening up’ if my writing itself becomes more loose.

But we are not close to that yet.

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

Paper Cuts…#poem#poetry

This weeks #poem#poetry is a bit of a long one, again chosen by the class.

Paper Cuts

You want the control,
come and then hit me.
You want the submission,
come and then beat me.
You wanted my fear,
come and then kick me.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Time stoped the bleeding.
Scrapes stopped the stinging.
And bruises would fade,
where boot contact made.

But it’s just paper cuts.

First I was distraught,
Each time I was caught.
But I became numb,
for beating to come.

But it’s just paper cuts.

My running day ends,
from you and your friends.
When turning from flight,
and starting to fight.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

Along with the pains,
then came the names.
Not delivered with wit,
but hatred and spit.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Name callings public,
your put on display.
Teachers they join in,
with things that they say.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Children start chanting,
the things that all say.
Twisted, contorted,
by end of the day.

But it’s just paper cuts.

My head it would rattle,
when I dared to tattle.
Was told it not matter,
what children did natter.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

Name callings harmless,
the banter just fun.
Snowflakes are harmless,
unless by the ton.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Some wording distorted,
and used to control.
changing their meaning,
destroying their soul.

But it’s just paper cuts.

You alter the tone,
it carries a threat,
Misheard the meaning,
“cause I am upset”?

But it’s just paper cuts.

World seams so slanted,
I’m put in my place.
Can it be better?
depends on your face.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

Your words the damage,
numerous in time.
wounding is mental,
paper cuts, so fine.

But it’s just paper cuts.

One cut is painful,
more than its size.
When you have several,
the pain it will rise.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Cuts that your words leave,
slice into, my soul.
Never quite healing,
there taking their toll.

But it’s just paper cuts.

You keep on slicing,
it’s day after day.
never quite seeing,
what others, will say.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

You weakened my strength,
you’ve taken my hope.
Then it’s all my fault,
I “just conna cope”.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

Not the one hurting,
and feeling the pain.
You can’t conceive it,
the pain in a name.

Because it is just paper cuts.

Inwards it’s turmoil,
viewed outwards as “shy”.
What was expected?
You cut me, I cry!

It’s not just paper cuts!

Bosses, no different,
their stature to prove.
Skilful word twisting,
their ego’s improve.

It’s never just, paper cuts.

Doubt plants a small stone,
in every new cut.
Open wound festers,
as cannot it shut.

It comes with the paper cuts.

Now socially awkward,
not clever with speech.
Your cuttings have taught
me “what I can reach”.

I feel alone with the paper cuts.

I’m now in training,
defending myself.
I have new skillsets,
improving my health.

Enough with the paper cuts!

I will not listen,
and travel your way.
If you don’t like it,
you don’t have to stay.

I’m stopping your paper cuts!

Paper cuts it’s never been,
just one on its own.
Your words of wounding,
are yours now to own.

You get to own your paper cuts.

Used them unknowingly,
in words that I use.
I should know better than,
poke fun and abuse.

I get to own my paper cuts.

What I’m now learning,
as child should be taught.
Socially skilful,
the bully to thwart.

Eradicate the paper cuts.

Now time to end them,
there’s no room for buts.
With skills will defeat
them, end paper cuts!

A § M
19/6/2017