Tag Archives: poetry

Am I wrong? A poem

I don’t like life

It hurts too much

What is the point of living if I can’t do such and such?

Why am I here?

Why do I live?

What does a person like me have to give?

What is the point of carrying on?

So I can sit and write you more depressing songs?

Or tell me please… am I wrong?

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Immune system bites

I feel whooped by my own body

I wake in the morning feeling like I have been in a fight

My immune system bites

And I do not like

Life is pain

So is love

Life is Hell

But… Oh Well…

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Poetry.com is back!

I got an email telling me that Poetry.com is back, up and running again and this is so exciting for me!

I used to post on there daily and sometimes several times a day and I was getting a good reputation on there until it closed down.

I may now post my poetry only on there, but I am unsure. I did originally want this blog to be more focused on my redefining myself, finding myself, my path to a better me and my creative career. I also wanted this blog to concentrate on snippets, advice and short stories. Poetry was not really meant to be a part of this blog.

I don’t know, perhaps I will still post here but also Poetry.com?

I know that Poetry.com also likes songs and lyrics etc, so I will be more inclined to write those again, which is great!

My username at Poetry.com is TardyCreative, so see you there!

I am not giving this blog up, don’t worry, I plan to become active on here for a very long time!

Happy Reading!

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Filed under About my work

Internet bliss

I lived my life becoming what you wanted me to be

A nothing, a loser, a carer, a woman who lives solitarily

So you can have your nursie when you old become

You hoped I’d have no intelligence; you wanted me to be dumb

But I was bright as a button and I did my lessons well

I wanted children, a family

To you that’s a life of Hell!

So you treated me more cruelly in the hope that I would stay

Because my confidence you’ll shatter, of course I couldn’t stray!

But you didn’t understand solace, with books and with my friends

The internet provided them; they were my god-send

You cursed the day my brother presented me with this

A world full of possibilities, the internet was bliss!

So you tried to make me isolated even more than that

You said you’ll pull the plug September

I was absolutely sure of that

So I left in July and met Paulie

He is the one who set me free

Your cruelty can no longer touch me

For I have woken up you see!

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Imagination from the shadows

The shadow world surrounds me and inspires my heart

Stories to tell and wondrous art

Fantasy, horror, I love them all

They dance in my head in their raucous ball

I sit and I write about courageous fights and dragons protecting their nest

I write about angels betraying God and I think I like those the best

But the thing I love more than all of these things

Is the fantasy that someday I may inspiration bring

To other writers and artists like me

To help and set their imagination free

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Concrete Box

Nothing screams disease like humans packed into a concrete box

Grey deserts confound even the most cunning fox

Read this and weep for the nature we have lost

Though humanities tears have turned cold like frost

Shall we remember the greener days where all life was one?

Shall we reverse time or is the world done?

You hold the key, yes you little one

One can save the world, even from the numb

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Why is kindness such a hated thing?

Why are people uncomfortable with good and kind words?

If you say you think they’re pretty they think you quite absurd!

It’s not normal to be so honest and open about all things

To have a child’s innocence as an adult and to say and do good things

You are mad say the onlookers

You are strange say them all

Suspicious eyes glare at you

It is not normal!

You are beautiful says the woman to a lady who served coffee

I’m not gay says the woman and moves away uncomfortably

Neither am I, thinks the woman who is confused by the mood

Was stating this fact to the waitress really so weird and so rude?

I can never understand a world where goodness is almost banned

But not by corrupt politicians, by society and its bland!

How can hurt people heal their wounds if no one accepts kind words?

If people only listen that they instead are turds?

Why is kindness so frowned upon, in a world that needs it most?

I am confused by society when kind people live like ghosts

How can anyone see heaven if they keep themselves in Hell?

Just because they can’t bare kindness, they fear the tricksters spell!

It is stupid and it is deranged to me how billions live this way

It is stupid and it is vile that honesty can’t be displayed

Why is such kindness a hated rotten thing?

It beats me every day to know

I can’t speak of truthful things because people just don’t want to know!

They’d rather you ignore them, than praise them for anything

They react so badly, when their praises you sing makes you feel you’ve done something bad to them, that your kind words to them have sting

Why is the world a positive shunner?  Why is negative so normal?

I don’t think I could ever understand a world that wallows in their toils

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Ignorance is anti-social

Ignorance is not bliss

I do not like to be ignored

I am quite sure that ignorance has its flaws

I do not like being lonely

I’d like you to hear what I say

I do not like ignorance

It is an anti-social display!

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Filed under Short Stories

thought of the day 1

I will admit that sometimes I preschedule my posts, especially those of poetry. 

I had a very ecologically aware and poetic day on the 20th May. 

Sometimes the themes of my poetry come in bursts of phases and waves; much like my story writing does too.  I get days where it is more of a vampire day or a dystopian day and my art or stories or poems reflect this, I can’t force myself outside of the theme I feel for the day; that is my major fault.

Today I feel artistic, I want to practise art, for me it is one of the dreaded mixed days, where I have more than one theme; today I feel like practising dragon art, writing towards a dragon story but also dystopian, I also feel like shopping but that is not a creative theme for me, that’s just me!

At the point of writing this post, it is the 21st May.  This post has been prescheduled because my body is giving me warnings that my auto-immunity issues are preparing themselves for yet another hit of something that will knock me off my feet for a couple of weeks.  I hope it gets over and done with before Midsummer night, because around that week I have minor surgery.

Happy reading

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Filed under About Me

Earth is a bubble

The Earth is like a bubble it was never meant to last

So please don’t touch the bubble or it will die in a blast

Be gentle with the bubble, keep it clean and keep it pure

Maybe we will live longer, though we can’t be sure

Life is such a precious thing, yet you treat it without a care

You forget that Earth’s a bubble and that all life is rare

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