The mystery of memory lay there

firm within fast faltering flesh bound

as loves fine tunes left rivulets in passions flair

resounding through the confines of strange lands

yet within tidal pyres awash in misery

the darkness hung two-fold within his eye

and the landed lover found strength in bigamy

his fate thus set in stone held little lie

nor did her face when she found out the truth

as summers storms progressed to winters mires

the face once loved transformed to one aloof

alas as one in love she was prone to guile

and her hearts abhor became her one delight

when love took wing to soar above the night

bumpkins we're all bumpkins

illusion, delusion confusion

mental intrusion

you say you like her

you watch her

observe her

courtier her

i see you

want you

love you

but your gaze

and her gaze

are intertwined

its so confined

connected

yet subjected

loves embrace

with feelings haste

away, begone,

so long

ill love you from afar

its so bazaar

to have to be this way

after this long day

after this long path

you shall surpass

and i shall bid farewell

surrender me to hell

heavens dell

i will not tell

shall not tell

dare not tell

can not tell

goodnight

goodbye

sleep well

sweet dreams

as on moons tide

further shall you glide

on loves true wing,

and yokes fine breath

goodnight

sweet dreams

my one

my love.

Life, Family, Drama, Confusion... Utter Confusion

In freedom writers they say that no one listens to a teenager, and they're right, See adults have this preconception, that because they've been in the world for longer than you, that because they've been a teenager before that they automatically know best, that they are automatically right in every situation because theyve dealt with those 'teenages hormones' before. But they forget that life as a teenager, while largely fluctuating, is based on real thoughts, emotions and events not simply 'hormones'. They also forget that every situation is different.

See situation is not just a matter of where you are when something happens, but it is based on the individual mind in a far more complex structure than pessimism and optimism. The world is shaped around certain events both pessimisticaly viewed and optimistically viewed depending on the mood of the individual, and each one of these events shapes ones outlook. Therefore, the way we percieve events, even over the age span is entirely unique and individual. Take, for example, the everyday fight between a child and their parent.

In this situation as in most, a child has said something the parent sees as defiance a way of flouting the rules, testing boundaries because in 'reality' the parent is in charge of the childs existence, they clothed them and housed them and fed them for all of their life. While this is true it is, like many things only one side of the story, one side of the coin. From the childs point of view the parent bought them into the world and for this the parent is responsibly for them, but rule and control has to be based on trust.

Many rulers rule by one policy, in china Mao Zedong ruled only in relation to peasants, completely turning on the 'capitalists of 'rightists' however he forgot that in a successful economy you need people who are educated enough to run the economy and thus reap the benefits they deserve. How does this relate to life, quite simply, parents want there children to be one hundred percent good and when they're not they expect an apology, while that is legitimate is it not fair to reason that when they are wrong we as people need an apology, life cannot simply go back to the way it was for while they may be sorry in their mind, the expressed word is far more genuine than a thought.

Quite recently i experienced this 'thought apology' at a friends house when a mother sent a child to bed without supper as a punishment. In the mean time she felt bad for this, yet she never sought to tell him this, and in the morning when the issue was not resolved in his mind and he felt the need to once again rebel, the point he was making i am not sure, but he was sad and that i understand. He was however punished again, yet unlike the mother the issue to him was unjust.

So how can we resolve this situation, its alright to say, look at it from the others point of view yet where in the world are you going to get two people consequentiality looking at the others point of view from the height of extreme emotion. Ive done it, and felt the calm knowing you get when you gain control of your emotions before digging yourself a deeper hole, yet how did that help me? My elder was still enraged at my accidental sarcasim as i asked for his help when he was not free to give it, yet, his demand for an apology came after his wrath as he, in return for my 'sarcasim', berated me. I could not justly give it, for that would be a blatant lie, and i felt would've disregarded me as a person, yet i could not expressibly say this as it would be seen to be disregarding him as a person. Indeed it may have as words have a strange effect on the angry mind. Insteed i said nothing, and my feelings went unrecorded while his continued to fly at me. While i undoubtedly started the situation out of careless phrasing I felt wronged for while i started the blow it was not me who took the first punch, as in war, it is always the one not who taunts but who strikes who is seen to have started the war.

Yet how does any sense of knowing help us? both parties still feel wronged, but to discuss ones thoughts would require a complete act of neutrality which would be broken the moment one spoke a word that was not to the other liking.

How can we resolve this situation which has existed across time? The truth? we cant, and one day, a day i truly dread, we may be faced with the same situation with us however being the parent.

And so, i leave you with this; Dulce et decorum est; it is honorable to die for ones country.

The question; is it honorable to die (suffer in silence) for family unity? or will that pent up rage cause an even greater rift?

sitting in the dark,

you cant see the light,

so you watch and wait,

till someone turns it on

opens up a door,

beckons you to come

filling up your life,

instantaneously

all this, you know,

happens unexpectedly

for when your in the dark,

you cant always see,

what was always there

right in front of you

I see the lines over her face

like scaring in the blue

colors speckled on her wrist,

self-similar hues.

I see the fall,

the crushing wait

still, i yearn to sing that song

to stumble yonder stony path

and take thy dreaded step;

that shalt end thy days young suffering.

The stars align once more

as the moon shines high above

and so, i take the final plunge

a fate yet prepossessed

with final breath in life's tumult,

i shalt gasp well hidden truths

which have long awaited beneath thine lips

and within once slighted mind.

You shall know for once, for sure

the words i wish to say

for words of un-regret beware,

revelations on thou way.

rambles of a clouded mind....

are you in the dark

as clear as the day

are you in mind,

as abundant in form

your heart as strong as skin,

as strong as in the hand

as mind in mind

and eye to eye

everywhere i am

could it be obsession, that envelopes such thoughts so

or just plain possession, preen, vie and obsession

confession yet silent ,

agony waits,

as in the darkness

soundest burdens blight:

still, we hide within night

I watch within that silence, as the night turns into day

blooming buds of green,

over fence yon whicher way

unable to speak with freedom

i will for night to turn

so i can confess possession

in loves one true succession

An ode to poems lost

As life poured in to art,
to form angelic rhyme
expressions from the heart
blew forth to phantom time

But Abaddons breath grew stronger,
nature took its toll on man
taking life from memory
un-fossilised, un-formed

up from that lonely landscape, grey
life labored for a breath
one rung on lifes long ladder-
yet left for him to fall

Abaddon’s crafts were wicked,
as ink swelled upon her form
with last now coming first
Styx’s unyielding kilter true

and so, your grave approached you
with godless intervene,
sidling to thou grave,
un-lived and yet un-seen.

Once upon a dream....

life has many mysteries, discoveries and ploys

some which end in beauty and exponential joy

where others are un-sightly un-proud as yet un-voiced

but in this life a center, is but centered round a tree,

for this tree is life's true symbol ,

of a life like dream once dreamt

In this dream their was a mystery,

formulated in a leaf

For I was but one autumn bound in the middle of the spring

a pearl beneath the ocean-green,

i was surrounded by my kind

surrounded yet apart,

i was home,but yet alone

a leaf of different origins,

from all mother-kind

listless dreams and wakeful nights

where tranquility meets truth

an endless gap of torment within thou romanced scene

and so i pose the question, how can one be alone?

for a leaf on-top a tree, is but surrounded by its kind

as surrounded as a pearl, lying down on oceans floor

its intrinsic to its kind, like a sheep within a flock

it is an unfathomable mystery,

the mystery of life

as the laws of newtons universe bring us tumbling to the ground

yet, it was but a dream,

of a life far from my own

a life when trees grow from the ground,

defying gravity

as truth to ones illusion

as if within a dream

there i await eternity

awaiting you and me

What to say? i don't really feel like writing a poem and i'm too busy with school to do that anyway. Plus Itty hasn't come home and is obviously is not coming home which really sucks. I guess the positive thing to do would be to say Ive still got Ginge and i must say Ive gotten alot closer to him now Itty's gone... as gorgeous as he is though he'll never be my number one boy, that place has been taken and is going to stay taken because despite the fact Itty's not here theres always the vague possibility that he'll come back........it could happen.

Where is my Itty Kitty?

Its been three days and Itty still hasn't come home... I don't even know if he was here while I was away, for all i know he could've not come home in two weeks... *fingers crossed* for him, i don't know what id do without him :(

EDIT: over two weeks have officially passed.

So anyways, the last three poems were the ones for the days when i couldn't access internet, i decided i might as well publish them in one big blob rather than spreading them out or anything! Oh yeah im dedicated... :)

High above the land

we fly hand in hand

turning with loves embrace

the moments truth returns

thus,

with new days tidings do we part

for the distance i must travel

is a distance travelled alone

no we, no us, no anything

as mornings red foretold

and so, from human eye I go

waiting to return

Lifes' flight

Soaring like an eagle

above the long white cloud

isn't quite as peaceful

as the fairy-tales told

for above yon rocky outcrops

and vast swirling mass' o' green

the worlds a little tenuous

as if founded on a dream

a dream of ideologies

both ancient and new

of heaven and of earth-

where the god and devil play

a deadly game of war.

a war requiring victims,

through the tearing of the flesh

and confusion of the mind-

the innocent are slaughtered

within the eagles breadth

for up above the air

waits the vehicle of death

a boat, in the sky-like

river Styx

with death a slowly rowing

as the the war continues growing

Traveling the road

With salt spray on my face

i march along the chosen road

far across the mountains

and through bucolic sprawls,

till my path shall meet the heavens

where ill join the eagles flight

I hear the beating of my heart

as erratic as the wind

as erratic as my flight,

as it fantasizes and romanticizes

a stark reality

images floating before my eyes

both real and false alike

thus the salt keeps coming

as the drummer keeps on drumming

When life is but a dream...

I saw a little house

up on a wayward path

where the air hung stale and dry

much like the ash of a wayward day

which coated life in a sheen of gray

from the wayward trees

to fine trinketings,

its arms reached over everything

The expanse bespoke a memory,

of dreams and life alike

not yet ready to be forgot

for twas much better than a photograph

an image of a thought

for it bespoke a presence,

true to form and passionate life

it was ready to be embraced

I cherished that weather bet house

and the land upon which it stood

for although the memory, not mine

it remained within my mind

not yet ready to be forgot

life the universe and everything

Like the pounding of the rain

tap tap tapping on my roof

so your voice

keeps on tapping

in crevices of my mind

I hate your inconsistency

like the inconsistent storms

but your mesmerizing whispers

always bring me back for more

rain tapping on my roof

tap tap tapping evermore

through the dawning of new day

and the lightness of new words

the storm will keep on growing

through the harshness of your verbs

Writting a personal statement is always a hard thing to do, i mean what are you supposed to write? All they say is build yourself up, make yourself look better but how true will that ever be true to who you truly are? and how often will the people who get accepted be the ones who full out lie about their achievements?? i mean what is the point anyway? introduce yourself, explain about your subject choice, more explaining, demonstrate interests... it all seems like a way of bragging about yourself to strangers to me.. anyway i don't even need a personal statement, my uni doesn't accept them so its just going to be another useless essay chucked in the bin after days and weeks of fretting about it, re-writing and re-drafting it. I mean who would think that someone might actually have more important things to do with their life than writing useless essay after useless essay... ok thats my rant over anyways :)

In the downpour

Water fell upon the floor

as the dams of heaven broke

tiny pin pricks in a drought

of un-beguiling hope

which caused the break was but a thought

a happy thought, a joy

yet from the joy a sadness bloomed

a blot upon the land

lifes fires fought against the gloom

but the fires fought in vain

for the hand of fate had intervened

and the call was not to be

the call was lost against the wind

lost to eternity

Ok, so i wrote this last night but my internet wasn't working so i couldn't post it.. here goes

I hear the clock strike 12

and feel my shoulders lift

for the dawning of new day

brings new life, new hopes, new happenings

and so I, un-distressed,

can lay my mind to rest

peaceful and serene

the land of wondrous dreams

lies waiting for me there

calling me to bed

The road of life

I view my life in roads

in paths Ive yet to take

and in this moment, at this place

three paths Ive yet to take

one path shows life in beauty,

both in people and the mood

romantic, unsustainable this path is but a stroll,

short and unforgettable

but where to go from there?

Path two could be a road,

a highway to the end

the life would be abundant

with freedom like the wind

for when my road should end

there would be hopes in dreams abundancy

Path three alone, is not my choice,

for the lines too short to live

but on the other side lays one, concurrently,

for on this path, thats not mine to chose

another's mind presides,

will two indeed fall to one

or stay separate-eternity

Three roads to chose lest fate twines

and changes once again,

for minds desire and hearts content

are two parts that yet abide

In the shadows wake

over the kopje-crest

the moon prowls silently

and in his colors lay the test

of times sweet reckoning

Blues and grays of a day surpassed

and a dawn not far away

yet still i wake, turn and quake

for not all was said that day

And so the shadows grow

as he waits with silent jest

compelled to snare me, tear me, compare me

like all his former foes,

a cruel jest to all my woes

Beyond the wicker works

where the wind blows softly by,

a bright flame lurks

where no man shall lie.

Risen forth from shadowy murks

they find thou'art flame-

and stay forever more, forgotten, lame.

Just a conversation between personalities

Ok, so convinced by Becca (yourself truly) I have decided to write this blog, to myself really, a way of organizing my thoughts away from prying eyes. I'm not quite sure what i'm going to write or in what form it will be styled whether it be stories, poems, letters etc, just the first thing that comes to mind i guess. Most importantly this blog is for me and no one else. I can be myself here, yes that includes talking to myself and i can write both the ups and the downs of the day, week, month, or year... so George i dedicate this to you ( and of course Becca!)

Controlled

Becca is not a person she is a evil maniac dictator controlling my life, this is my first blog!