Winter Haiku

Winter’s white snow falls
Navi has her camouflage
Hopping to a leaf

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Free writing

Words flow from my hands as I tippy tap on this tiny keyboard. No thoughts occur more than a second before I type it down. I typed less then, but that would be a lie. Also maybe slightly more than a second. But thoughts just spur, just spout out of my head onto this screen of black and green. This old machine like a typewriter. A modern typewriter where not every time you type something wrong you need to tear out the page and start again. Remember that? I didn’t have to do it for long. I learned to type on a type machine. It is most unforgiving. But soon that made way for these magical devices that now control our lives. It is no longer a commodity, but rather a necessity. Not just to fit in but to be. As if without an internet profile somewhere or other you don’t exist in what we call the Western world. You are lamented. Poor thing, no internet, maybe not even a computer. But to be honest, I was quite happy with my typewriter too. But maybe the forests weren’t as happy with me tearing page after page out of the damn thing because I made yet another mistake.

I would like to write more

I would like to write more. Writing is soothing for me. Especially on a nice keyboard. The soft touch as my fingers glide from letter to letter, crafting words and sentences. It’s like building up a magical world full of wonders. Crafting every rock and every creature with the pencil strokes of my fingers on the keyboard. So elegant, flowing, growing stories like a tree or a flower; slowly but surely.

What happens when I listen to rap music

I wrote this a few weeks back and thought it worthwhile to post it here. And in case you’re wondering, I was in a pub with rap music blaring in the background while I wrote this. I just couldn’t resist.

I’m too rich to be poor,
too flawed to be good,
too tough to be weak,
too sad to be strong,
too rough to be beautiful,
and I don’t know
what to do with my life.
It feels so messed up,
but too normal to be crazy.
I feel like I’ve lost control
and yet everything just carries on.
Time just passes,
without any effort,
but I feel like I’m rooted to the ground,
unable to move.
I can’t find my groove.
I’m just a person.
Why am I making this so hard for myself?
I keep throwing rocks in front of my feet
and I stumble, I fumble
can’t walk, just tumble.
What am I doing here anyway?

Accepting is hard

I’m not just talking about something that is given to you, like a gift perhaps. I find this difficult as well for some reason, as if I never quite deserve it. But it is even harder to accept that I am not a bad person. And I know that to the majority of you reading this, this will make no sense at all. However, as long as I remember, I have felt an immense hatred towards myself. I don’t know why, because people around me have always told me and still tell me how sweet and nice I am (family, friends etc). And yet it persists. Recently it has flared up again in a big way and that is the inspiration of the following poem.

I fall
over and over again
I fall into darkness so black
that it poisons my soul
It is anger
A blind anger
vicious
misdirected
punching me
over and over again
forcing me to hurt
convincing me I deserve it
and I believe
I fall
over and over again
into vicious blind anger
slashing
hurting
over and over again

Splendid symphony

As seasons pass, colours change.
A weave of wondrous colours.
The white of winter.
Silver slivers on the ground.
Though weary too
with its grey grim complexion.
Then cold grows concious it is fading
for the coming of the spring.
The vibrant colours spring to life
in splendid symphony.

I was going put this out later, but this just fits brilliantly with today’s daily prompt: Colours

New year’s resolutions

A while ago I wrote a little text for myself to remind me of the things I find important in life. I still have to look at it regularly when I get caught up in things that really aren’t worth the stress. So for my good intentions for 2014 I will do, or make sure I can see what I have put on that list.

I live for a child’s smile
I live for a friend’s embrace
I live for a lover’s kiss
I live to admire wonders:
the scent of a fresh rose
the colours of a sunset
a breeze on a hot summer day
a bird’s song one early morning
the sights on a long walk
the love in one man’s eyes
I live for love.

I know the most difficult one for me will be the early morning, because I love sleeping long, but that one morning will definitely be worth it. I’ll write another post when they’re all done and tell you how it feels.

Catch you later!