Category: Scribbles

An excerpt from a monologue as part of my 'Cabaret of Confessions' suite.

Courage? What is courage?
It's survival,  I guess.
I survived you.

Heartbreak.

Heartbreak can be full of emptiness.
So empty you're full of it.
Overwhelming; energy in absence, anger, tears.
I used mine, did  you?

In a passion of bad timing and good intentions my life changed... I guess I just didn't know it yet

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Flow

Clock ticking Pen scratching Mind racing All it takes for a moment A moment of clarity or beauty or both Write on…

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A poem from the point of view of post-break-up, trying to choose to move on.

It would be so easy to hate you
Or the way you make me feel
The way you make it all okay
Whilst my heart breaks
- But I can't
It would be so helpful to be angry
Or shout and cry out and kneel
The way I forgive you on sight
Whilst my heart breaks
- But it isn't

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# Permanent link to Because I choose
A free-written poem about a journey through a final goodbye to a loved one, as part of a Grand Guignol suite of monologues in poetic and free verse 'Cabaret of Confessions'
Published on Spillwords in 2016

As she gazes into her eyes can she see the pain,
Will she see the shadows, will she see the shame,
She can see the love, she can see the light,
She can feel the pull, feel her chest coiled tight,
She hopes her heart won't break as she tears away,
Will she hear it crack and feel her fingertips stray,
As they grasp onto the moment that's no longer real
As they clutch for hands that can no longer feel.

Lost reaches — brush nothing, her heart begins to flake
Her soul hopes for sleep and the longing lays awake.
Would she really be missed, her mind starts to break
To feel like she belongs, what would it take...

Love like thunder, as light and as fickle as the promises now unspoken.

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A poem about finding the beauty and trying to hold onto the positive after a broken heart.
Published on Spillwords 2016

What's your favourite moment?
The question is often posed,
A recent, beautiful moment,
With hopes and hearts deposed.
And in an instant I can see it,
Feel your body, smell your skin,
Because the beautiful favourite moment,
Is when I end and you begin.

I can still feel my arms around you,
Hear the song as the needle coasts,
The melody, the pedantic cracklings,
The record player contains these Ghosts.

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# Permanent link to The beautiful moment
A monologue, the free writing poetical ramblings of a writer struggling with their relationship with their words; the tools of their survival.

Words, words, words;

Escaping the definition of interpretation of the everyday, the mundane and the monotonous,
Trying to break the multi-syllabic montage of the necessity to understand
Without words, actions would have little meaning,
So how can actions speak louder than words?

Words, words, words;
Semantic scribbling a with semantic hypnosis.
A desire.
A drive.
A need to know and to interpret,
And a loathing in anticipation of our failure to success.
The loathing is only so because it's labelled this way,
The action which is t one loathed is only so because we are to fulfil this anthropomorphic scripture,
Which — once spoken — becomes a feeling or the need to feel.
If the written word is so powerful and the actions it defines, destroys and disembowelled, so terrible,
Then the spoken work seeks only to justify, to establish a balance and to nullify the impact.
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# Permanent link to Wordsmith

Take a moment

Take a moment, take a breath In a world where a pause seems eternal Hold tight to the moment of choice That moment it yours Take a moment A breath Remember it’s real And what will be left There is value for you Just hold on Easy for me to say I know. I Love…

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