Sunday, September 30, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
childhood reflections
anyone remember these?
"my eyes are dim i cannot see i have not brought my specks with me. i have not brought my specks with me. there was sam, sam, pushing a pram in the store, in the store, there was sam, sam, eating cheese and ham in the quarter master's store..."
"alice, where are you going? upstairs to have a bath. alice, with legs like toothpicks and a neck like a gir-raff-raff-raff-raff-raffe. alice, jumped in the bathtub. pulled out the plug and then. ohmygoodnessohmysoul, there goes alice down the hole! alice, where are you going? glug, glug, glug..."
"my mum is in the kitchen, my dad is in the shed.
my nan is in her rocking chair and pop's asleep in bed.
my brother's stripped his motorbike although it's about to rain.
my sister's playing ricky martin over and over again.
what a dim old family, what a dreary lot!
sometimes i think i'm the only SUPERSTAR they've got!"
"my old blue shirt is tattered and torn. the collar is crumpled and the elbows are worn.
the sleeve got ripped when i climbed a tree. there's a big dark stain where i spilled my tea.
but even so, i love my blue shirt, though it's tattered and battered and covered in dirt."
"underneath the sea/ far away from land/ that's where i will be/ shaking on the sand/ rattling in my rigging/ dithering on my deck/ i'm just a ner-err-err-errvous wreck."
"when mr clickety cane plays a silly game, all the kids in the street, they like to do the same. wash your face with orange juice, clean your teeth with bubble gum.." et cetera
or perhaps i just had a poetic childhood.
"my eyes are dim i cannot see i have not brought my specks with me. i have not brought my specks with me. there was sam, sam, pushing a pram in the store, in the store, there was sam, sam, eating cheese and ham in the quarter master's store..."
"alice, where are you going? upstairs to have a bath. alice, with legs like toothpicks and a neck like a gir-raff-raff-raff-raff-raffe. alice, jumped in the bathtub. pulled out the plug and then. ohmygoodnessohmysoul, there goes alice down the hole! alice, where are you going? glug, glug, glug..."
"my mum is in the kitchen, my dad is in the shed.
my nan is in her rocking chair and pop's asleep in bed.
my brother's stripped his motorbike although it's about to rain.
my sister's playing ricky martin over and over again.
what a dim old family, what a dreary lot!
sometimes i think i'm the only SUPERSTAR they've got!"
"my old blue shirt is tattered and torn. the collar is crumpled and the elbows are worn.
the sleeve got ripped when i climbed a tree. there's a big dark stain where i spilled my tea.
but even so, i love my blue shirt, though it's tattered and battered and covered in dirt."
"underneath the sea/ far away from land/ that's where i will be/ shaking on the sand/ rattling in my rigging/ dithering on my deck/ i'm just a ner-err-err-errvous wreck."
"when mr clickety cane plays a silly game, all the kids in the street, they like to do the same. wash your face with orange juice, clean your teeth with bubble gum.." et cetera
or perhaps i just had a poetic childhood.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
this sucks.
this is my blog therefore i am going to be as bitchy and miserable as i like and if you've got a problem, the door's thattaway.
WHYYYYYYYYYYYY
IS IT ALWAYS MEEEEEE
or rather
not me.
ugh
destined to be a university dropout and a crazy cat lady forever.
maybe i'll just retreat into a cottage atop a mountain in switzerland with some goats for company, and i can spend my days picking flowers and teaching lonely goatherds to read, heidi-style??
sigh
even heidi got with peter in the end...
i might just wallow in self pity for a while, then take up yogic meditation.
WHYYYYYYYYYYYY
IS IT ALWAYS MEEEEEE
or rather
not me.
ugh
destined to be a university dropout and a crazy cat lady forever.
maybe i'll just retreat into a cottage atop a mountain in switzerland with some goats for company, and i can spend my days picking flowers and teaching lonely goatherds to read, heidi-style??
sigh
even heidi got with peter in the end...
i might just wallow in self pity for a while, then take up yogic meditation.
stealth and subterfuge
it's been a while, but i'm back, and we all know what that means... someone has an essay due like yesterday, and is therefore going through the 5 stages of procrastination... stage 3, avoidance. BLOG TIME!
tumbling in fitfull dreams
tangled in unfamiliar sheets
drowning in a mattress sea
to my left you rest easy
oh sleep, why must you evade me?
my eyelids beg, my body pleads
the sandman dances lazy circles around me
the clock ticks away lost time
when in dreamland, you could have been mine,
but alas for my torturous mind,
bringing up memories i can never rewind
just take me to another night
where you kissed me out of sight
and out of spite i refused to fight
but i hate this stalemate,
where our words all sound so trite
eh... it doesn't flow, it's lazy in places, but i guess it's a start. ?
Sunday, September 2, 2012
you only live once?
hungers ended
friends amended
fingers chilling
time overfilling
pockets empty
spot you a twenty
taxi driver likes her hair
smoke is swirling through the air
people dancing everywhere
lost on a beach now
can't find the stairs
surprising lovers
worrying mothers
attention waning
you all keep me sane
withdrawal draws attention
joke to ease the tension
on action we're thriving
don't care who's driving
late nights and weary mornings
and endless loop, going through the motions
minimal effort
when will it all stop?
good things must come to an end
but for now let's just pretend
we're living in a moment
certain realities pass without comment
right or wrong, sometimes i ignore it,
but i'm writing again now
perhaps i can keep track of it,
replaying cliches
at least it's a start
in fact, i might be getting back on track
losing keys and using keys
getting lost to find my way
inadvertent philosophy?
now i'm rambling
perhaps i'm gambling
time's a wasting
conscience is chasing
to bed i'm retreating
one goodnight, but never goodbye.
friends amended
fingers chilling
time overfilling
pockets empty
spot you a twenty
taxi driver likes her hair
smoke is swirling through the air
people dancing everywhere
lost on a beach now
can't find the stairs
surprising lovers
worrying mothers
attention waning
you all keep me sane
withdrawal draws attention
joke to ease the tension
on action we're thriving
don't care who's driving
late nights and weary mornings
and endless loop, going through the motions
minimal effort
when will it all stop?
good things must come to an end
but for now let's just pretend
we're living in a moment
certain realities pass without comment
right or wrong, sometimes i ignore it,
but i'm writing again now
perhaps i can keep track of it,
replaying cliches
at least it's a start
in fact, i might be getting back on track
losing keys and using keys
getting lost to find my way
inadvertent philosophy?
now i'm rambling
perhaps i'm gambling
time's a wasting
conscience is chasing
to bed i'm retreating
one goodnight, but never goodbye.
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