Running
November 14, 2012

I want to run through life, run to the places
That books are made of. Where life
Is lived. Where colours are painted
In new shapes and sizes round every block.
 
I want to run through life, talk to strange faces
And drink with the locals. I will drive cars
I can’t afford to buy – yet – and maybe
They’ll print my name where you can see.
 
I want to run through life, I can’t wait
Any longer. These hills look taller when
You’re standing right on top.
So will you run with me, or just sit down in the dirt?
 
 
I’ve been told that to inspire a more ‘communative blog’ or whatever that means, the blogger should ask a question to readers about a particular topic. So I’ll give it a go.
 
Is there anything you feel you can’t achieve because of circumstances holding you down?
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Petrarchan Sonnet
October 3, 2012

my heart

my heart, to you, is a throw away thing
it’s a cheap plastic lighter
running out of gas.
the more i burn
the less i am.
and i cannot do, but yearn
and scream,
“just stop.”

my heart, to you, is a throw away thing.
wasting like the core of finished fruit
faded from your eye.
those lashes flicker away from me now,
and gaze
the other way.

Golden Syrup
May 3, 2012

by Elexa Rose

my chest is lined with golden syrup
turned pink by the touch of my blood
i breathe in hard
the walls of my lungs
stick together
wrapped around my heart and
the veins going in and going out
it's solidifying
grabbing
a rich golden fist
it trickles out of my ears and nose
clogs my tear ducts
there are lumps in my throat
you can feel them if you press
on my neck
my sweat gets stuck
my voice is a thin husk
as i heave and swell
and burst slowly
still slowing.

Tomorrow will be Tuesday, maybe
January 23, 2012

A poem by Caroline Bird, Last Tuesday. I love it, you should love it.

Slow
January 16, 2012

by Elexa Rose
 
It’s not that I don’t
care, or I’m stoned
or a bit drunk. I just
can’t let myself trust
your less-than half
hearted words. We laugh
and smile though I wish
you’d put meaning in your kiss
so these silences aren’t so
painful and slow.

Ten People In My Wonderful Life
December 24, 2011

Writing Excersise:

Pick ten people you know and write a one-sentence description for each of them.

  1. Never quite looking me in the eye, I could her that constant irritating flick on the pen in his right hand that paced out an off-beat rhythm, which he seemed to unconsiously speak in time to.
  2. From the scuffed black and white converse trainers and low-sitting drain-pipe jeans he gave off an over-confident air, but when he spoke with the most inoccent grin I’d ever seen I couldn’t help but feel as if I’d known him for years, and the bounce of the curls on his head when he laughed just made him seem even more harmless, but there was something about his slightly dusty blue eyes that made me stop and think, and I’m not sure what about.
  3. I’d never seen dull, sleepy eyes sparkle as much as his when he read the words that I never knew I’d longed to hear.
  4. She squeezed her volumptuous sides in the tight skirt, that I guess you could say accentuated her feminine curves, but the way she sucked in tightly on a thin cigarette and pouted into the reflection on her phone fixing a curl or two that fell out of place from her head told us that she was here for one thing only.
  5. The bitter taste was clear on her face though she tried to hide it; she exhaled slowly and controlled and handed it back to me, her long dark hair dancing like a black fire down her back and around her slightly too-wide shoulders, as if mocking the smoke she shunted from her chest.
  6. His eyes locked onto mine, his cheeky smile quickly flashed up as he made some midly amusing quip and passed another drink into my hands, being careful for our fingers not to touch.
  7. Slightly stooped, with soft eyes, he gave the appearance of offering his full attention yet it always seemed as if his mind was elsewhere, somewhere I wasn’t allowed to go.
  8. Large, plump, no make up, no care; her loose, oversized clothes hung like dead animals from her sloth-like limbs that moved as if she had already given up.
  9. Her terrifyingly tall legs strutted under a tight dress that teased with the idea of revealing the tip of her buttox.
  10. Always poised with an expression of discontent and armed with an attempt of sarcastic wit that came out more bitchy, he was the kind of guy that had to be your best friend for you not to hate him.

With Diction
December 7, 2011

by Elexa Rose
 
You crack
like the spine
of a fresh book.
 
Ripples in the air
prepare us
for the shatter.
 
Quiet now –
I can taste the fear
that’s all over your face.
 
Hush, small child.
It’s no time to cry.
Be brave.
 
Running from bright
television screens.
A better place
 
awaits us.
A whole new world,
filled.

Let’s call it an experiment, and this the results.
December 3, 2011

by Elexa Rose
 
It’s fine by me –
 
Another day,
Another night.
I see your face
In the Amber light.
 
Why break this ride?
It feels too good.
It slows my head,
Just like you should.
 
I find comfort
In reddened eyes.
My throat burns.
Another dream dies.
 
Each breath I take
Heals the scars.
I think in silence,
And hear the stars.

A Dream Within A Dream
November 4, 2011

Oh what I’d give to write like this. The famous ‘A Dream Within A Dream’, a poem written by Edgar Allan Poe. It takes something else to write a poem so beautiful, I’m working so hard at it, but it seems futile, in the mean time, I’ll surround myself with the breath-taking poems, such as this one. I love it.

A Dream Within A Dream
by Edgar Allan Poe
 
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

Day 5. Something I Hope To Do In My Life.
October 26, 2011

~Thirty Days of Truth Challenge (http://hope.gr/30-days-of-truth/)~

Well well well. I want to loads. I want to publish a novel and/or a collection of poetry. I want to present a radio show. I want to be on television. I want to write for a paper/magazine. I want to walk the red carpet. I want to visit every continent. I want to live in another country. I want an old fashion type writer. I want to get married. I want to have a family. I want to own a big, badass Bentley. I want to study every form of art there is. I want to do some good somewhere. I want to change the world. If I can make a positive impact on one person somewhere, change their life for the better, even if it’s just making them a little happier then it’s all worth it then, isn’t it. But one main thing that I hope to do in my life… it’s a tough one. I want to write a novel. That definitely comes top. But not just any old novel that sits on the shelves in Waterstones that nobody notices, I want people to read it and actually think, “you know, that really made me think about x, y and z”. Have you ever read a book that completely questioned your way of thinking? That stayed with you? I want to write something that people will study one day. That will cause controversy, will be loved and hated, criticised and recognised as great literature. Yeah it’s a long shot, but it’s what I hope for. We all have dreams.