Oh blog, how I have ignored thee.

This is a website in progress, that’s for sure. Having been away from it for way too long I want to organise, edit and arrange the past posts while reshaping it to move forward.

Consider the sign up – open for business, please mind the construction 🙂

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Weeping Moon

Weeping Moon

The sun sets slowly

And the weeping moon appears

No one is near her

So she cries without fear

Looking out at the world which is hers

She sees all that’s gone wrong

Wishing for peace quietly to herself

She shrugs off the passing bong

Stars of happiness shine in the distance

Stars of the past, perhaps not

The future may hold more for her

Shudder.

A single gun shot

Girls crying sorry and boys alone

Not what the world’s meant to be

A lost child cries for help and love

If only she could see

The weeping moon offers all these things

Go to her for support

Catch her weeping – it’s the only way

To settle your final thoughts.

The Enchanted City

*One of my all-time favourite pieces of anything creative I’ve ever produced. The simplicity probably alludes to my immature skills as a creative, I suspect. But I’m happy to admit I don’t know a lot, and haven’t done much for a long time. I’ve recently gotten into photography as my outlet which is an altogether different type of creative to writing. I should add, this was written in 1998 – I was 16 years old. I recently found my original portfolios filled with poems and drawings and thought I’d share some here*

The Enchanted City

The full moon looks down on the Enchanted City.

Adults and their children sleep soundly

As the night time passes over them in oblivion. 

Their teenage rebellions run rampant through town

Living a secret life their pessimist families refuse to believe exists. 

Lounging around cemeteries

They enjoy this life, it is unknown to all but a select few. 

Their grandparents lie in constant fear. 

Fear of the unknown

Fear of never waking

Fear of theft, invasion 

Terror rips them apart.

Their nieces keep ears open while eyes are shut. 

Waiting to hear fragments of conversation

So they can create a whole story

Out of a misinterpreted sentence

Gossip is what these people know best

It is all they know, all they want.

Their children do the last deal of the day

Sleep ’til noon then organise tomorrows trading

A purely illegal profit is made each minute.

But for now, sleep. Sleep and relax.

All is well in the Enchanted City.