Vanity

This is a  short poem that I think everyone will relate to; it is just whether you are the red font or the black font.

This could be continued...

Merry Christmas everyone xxxx

Red font: the voice of Vanity

Black font: Everyone who does not fancy themselves

Hello beautiful in the mirror there!

Your immeasurable prettiness too much

To bear,

I’ll capture this sight with my electronic eye,

Then subject the social world in hope of reply,

A comment of admiration, or a simple ‘like’,

Either will do: as long as you’re polite

Strangely enough we do not care,

About your luscious looks or your pretty hair,

The mirror you see as a constant state,

But unfortunately your highness, this is not the case

Your hair will wither, and your skin will crack,

What a shock that will be, when ageing attacks,

I don’t suppose you will take pictures when

You experience this fright?

I welcome the day, when I can click ‘dislike’

Naivety

Thinking about how badly people get manipulated sometimes, without even realising it. 

I write what I want on

a post-it note; and

Then stick it on your head.

And magically you come to ‘life’,

I’ll label you till your death

A self-fulfilling prophecy:

Your naivety will feed me well,

I’ll amend you,  and I’ll shape you

In your consensual cell.

Yes I will imprison you!

and you will never know.

Naivety is a dangerous glee,

So ensure your mind does grow 

Indifference

Perpetual disinterest: in

You

This state of apathy makes hatred

Desirable; like the longing for

Something palpable, tangible,

Even if it hurts!

Because: grey is better than black

Somewhat dull; but the paleness speaks

Far less animosity than absolute darkness

The expression of indifference;

There is no greater insult.

Ignorance

Under my mother’s wing:

‘My’ voice is heard; naive,

Oblivious and of course absurd,

I snarl when others speak of sense,

And roar at all these claims of pretence

All because I am ignorant.

Under my mother’s wing:

‘My’ face is seen; transparent,

Blank and arguably obscene,

At the sight of shelter: I lick my lips,

I block the truth: an intellectual eclipse

All because I am ignorant.

I am under my mother’s wing:

All because I am ignorant

The Lecture

ANOTHER cynical poem of how some of my lectures have been so far. I hope some people can relate to some of the frustration voiced here!

Pseudo intellectuals: we group

Together like all of this actually matters; so

I stoop my head and close my mind.

The sea of oblivion; I come up for breath

When a voice of pedantry asks yet another

Unnecessary question.

These kind of pseudo intellectuals; not subtle in

Their craft, indeed they thrive in exposing

Others as ‘daft’

The blatant imitation of intelligence; a dangerous venture!

So I’ll be elusive in this pseudo lecture

The sea of oblivion; I come up for breath

And ready myself for ‘intellectual’ death

Vegetable Baby

This is inspired by the idea that we start life as a baby and end life as a baby. Rather morbid and definitely one of the weirdest poems I have ever written! Comments would be appreciated

My hospital bed; just like a womb,

But the food was better last time,

A vegetable baby in a museum,

People listened instead of stared

The first time:

My mummy was my protective lining, but

Now this stranger they call a nurse,

She moves from potato to cauliflower

I’m pining for my beautiful hearse

This colourful hearse: my mother’s womb,

A hearse for life, like a flowers bloom 

This hospital speaks of demise and gloom,

A dreary abyss; my eternal tomb

Hospitals are like a child’s dinner,

We vegetables lay there- no nurse

Particularly wants to touch,

Babies are plump, but now I’m thinner,

A vegetable baby: a nurse’s dinner

A baby I was once, and

A baby I am now,

My mummy is this ‘nurse’

Please kill me now. 

'Eternal Delirium' : A short excerpt

Been doing lots of poetry recently so haven't done much work on this. This is an excerpt of my novel 'Eternal Delirium' that I really hope to have finished by mid 2013.

I am the airport now and I do not wish to discuss the process of packing; it was far too traumatic. Karen is a bit edgy at the moment because Brian rung her up again last night asking when they can meet up. I had forgotten about all that with the drama of the past few days. That would have to be dealt with when we got back. Right now it is 2am and we have just gone through security. I beeped because I forgot to take my belt off. I think they have naked scanners now? That must be an interesting job for whoever stares at the screen. The measures have become so intense now, and even the people that have nothing to hide are now hesitant as they walk through. Everyone looked so anxious and I suppose me strolling through with a grin on my face didn’t exactly ease the tense crowds. I don’t really have the look of a terrorist so I hope I didn’t raise too many alarm bells.

Karen is not the only one on edge. I am worried sick about Zebby because in the end I had no option but to tell Audrey to feed him for the week. I hope she doesn’t fall asleep and forget. To be fair she was lovely about it and assured me that Zebby would be looked after. Zebby will miss me a lot. I wish I could bring him with but it is probably a good thing I haven’t because Karen has told me that Richard has two huge dogs. I wish she had of told me this before I booked the tickets. I really hate dogs. Dad wouldn’t let me have a cat when I was young and insisted we had a dog. I told him I was scared of them and he just told me I was being pathetic and needed to man up. He even made me take the dog on walks. Dad called it Buster. What a generic and shit name for a dog. This was typical of my father: follow the fucking stereotypes and not think for yourself. Buster died when I was fourteen and I was glad to see him go. It seems like I was happy when all the members of my household died. Anyway maybe Richard’s dogs are friendly, but probably not. I was still looking forward to meeting this Richard. He doesn’t even know I am coming so I hope it is not too much of a shock.

We had time to kill so we went to have breakfast at Frankie and Benny’s. It was shit. The sausages were dry, the eggs were underdone, the bacon was too salty, the mushrooms and tomatoes were tinned and the conversation with Karen was as dry as the toast. The baked beans were immense though- you cannot go wrong with Heinz. Karen barely touched her fry up and I don’t think it was only because it was shit. She obviously had a lot on her mind and a mediocre fry up was not going to cheer her up. I tried to make conversation amusing by telling her I was going to go and try sunglasses on in the sunglasses hut after we had finished, and how she could help me pick a pair. She just half-smiled... So I tried again by telling her how it was so long since the last time I had worn shorts, and how I was going to look ridiculous. I received the exact same reaction. I didn’t really need to ask what was wrong because it was obvious: you wouldn’t exactly be calm and chirpy on the way to sort out your mother’s funeral arrangements. Talks of shorts and sunglasses gave too much of a summer holiday vibe, which on second thought was inappropriate and stupid of me. I thought about this and then changed the tone of the conversation to that dreaded more serious tone that I just found so unnecessary. I made a few awkward sounds, you know the type before you are about to say something serious. Karen was swirling around the cheap orange juice in the glass, forming an alternate world from the reality of me talking shit and not helping at all. In the end, I couldn’t be bothered to say anything. This saved me from saying something stupid that I would regret. Instead I took her hand and just told her briefly that I loved her and we should get going. This time her half-smile was more complete and she nodded in agreement. It was only an hour until the flight now, and funnily enough I was quite excited. I don’t think Karen felt the same. 

University, Baked Beans and Innocent Eyes

It has been nearly two weeks of living in halls, so a blog is long overdue. These past two weeks have been absolutely crazy; my life has gone from sitting on the sofa watching Loose Women with my mum for months to having the most amazing social life and meeting such great people. Mum if you read this I am not saying I do not enjoy watching Loose Women with you, but it did start to take its toll...

Apparently after you open tins of food i.e (tuna, sweetcorn and baked beans) you cannot put it in the fridge because the tin will poison the food. This cannot be true? The girls in my flat seem to think so but I have been doing that for years and I am still here.Also does anyone else eat cold baked beans out of the tin? Is it just me?  Tinned food has been a godsend since I have been at university and without it I would have had to actually make the effort to cook.  My flatmate, Michael, is an amazing cook so it is nice to have some actually homemade food. Oh and also frozen food! The frozen aisle at Morrisons has become my new favourite place, after bed of course. I could have bought 20 fish fingers for 60p but I thought I would buy the better quality ones for £2. Moving up in the world...

In other news I have found out that I have the option to have my poem  Innocent Eyes' published by United Press. I don't get any money but it is a good way of getting my name out there I suppose. Apart from this, I have nothing to tell you apart from that I absolutely love university and I am feeling the most optimistic and happy I have felt since of course the days when the only dilemma was what colour crayon to pick and Pokemon.

I watch the world through innocent eyes,

With muffled sound and routine cries,

As delicate as a new-born lamb,

It’s far easier viewing- from a pram,

But things can turn a solemn grey,

The horrors of having to play, play, play

The same old toys and ancient stuff,

My Mummy can’t see me huff and puff,

I cannot speak, but I observe

The delicate nature of adult nerve,

But I’ll just sit here in my chair,

No need to bother, No need to care.

I’ll let the food run down my face,

And shed a tear just in case

My mummy decides to shout and scream,

She just sussed out my evil scheme,

I take advantage of my age,

the naive myth I can’t engage,

I laugh at you with innocent eyes,

To buy it would be most unwise. 

Deceitful

This poem is really really cynical.

None can deny: the several faces,

The forged smiles,

The deceitful traces,

Nor can I refute: the urge within me,

To paint with colour,

To avert the frenzy,

With frenzy we form this ‘common’ ground,

A phoney fantasy

Represses the hound

I am deceitful.

You are deceitful.

We all are deceitful.

It's finally here...

After years of looking forward to university, the time has finally arrived when I am going :) I feel weird about it at the moment; mostly excited but really nervous at the same time. I have just about packed now (thanks to my mum) and it is fair to say I am taking pretty much everything I own. I have decided to take every single DVD I own, and I can tell you now I will probably watch about 5 out of the 40 odd I am taking. I mean I am taking Anchorman and that is a really shit film. It just feels better taking everything- I can't leave anything behind.

I can't wait to live in York. Everything is better up North. I think it is because everyone is stressed in London: the place speaks panic.

I have nothing else to say because I am tired and have to get up quite early. I should probably consider going to bed.

x

Religion : Learn or Burn

My grandad is round my house at the moment and he keeps bringing up the rather morbid subject of death. Rather antithetically he is at the same time talking to Siri on his Iphone.

He seems to think that the fact I am an atheist is purely down to the fact that my 'dad instilled the idea in my head'. Of course what our parents tell us will have some sort of effect on our views in the future, whether it be directly or indirectly. However: in quite the reverse I would say my interest in Philosophy and an acknowledgement of science has resulted in my atheism. In fact I would say that my atheism has influenced my dad's views in recent times, not the other way round! 

Anyway this got me thinking about whether children should be told anything about religion at a young age. Should it be taught in school at all? I thought I would post a piece of work I wrote a while back that discusses the issue. 

Learn or Burn

I remember being a child. You are vulnerable. You will pretty much believe anything and if your mummy and daddy says there is a man in the sky, I promise you there is a man in the sky.  Children naturally look up to their parents as role models for guidance and advice. To think of all the wonderful facts and knowledge that are obtainable and readily accessible to be presented to them, it is rather sickening to know that the susceptible imagination of young children is being frequently manipulated. 

A huge lingering question that is debated in the world is the question “Should religion be taught in school?” There are some positive aspects of religion that I feel children should be able to enjoy, such as the bringing together of a family. However, I believe these aspects of religion fall into more the categories of culture and tradition. It is evident that the world we live in is culturally relative, with countless amounts of ways of life that people choose to follow. These views should be celebrated and respected- I do not dispute this. However, the point of education is to best inform the children of society. I feel mentioning anything to do with “God” or a supernatural being is going against this purpose. Education should inform children of factual and intellectual knowledge in the world that they can take and pass onto their children. This is the way to create a better society, not by confusing children by eventually telling them Santa Claus is not real, but “God” is.  Santa Claus is actually not such an unbelievable idea in the bewildering world we live in. If there is someone capable of creating the whole human race, why shouldn't a fat bearded man not be capable of carrying a few presents? Okay- yeah it is a ridiculous idea, just like God. I suggest “religious studies” at school should be taught to some extent, but instead being labelled as “cultures and tradition”. God should not be mentioned in any circumstances as fact, but as an absolute leap of faith and uncertainty. I also believe that atheism should be fairly represented in schools, to best inform children that there is more than one option. 

Unfortunately, I highly doubt that religion will ever be erased from any school syllabus. This is because of the sheer amount of pressure on the world to “represent people’s views”. Who cares? Yeah it is interesting to learn about how other people live- I know this; but ultimately, how someone lives is up to them. This is not my problem. These people can live how the hell they want to, but until they can come up with any concrete evidence of why I or anyone should live like them, then I suggest schools refrain from educating us all on anything of the matter. Religion acts nothing more as a cloud of deception, it merely shields the scared and labels the rest of us as blinded from the apparent truth and beauty of God. In a religious person’s eyes, atheists are those of us whom are filled with pessimism, and have no hope for humanity. I feel these people have got pessimism confused with realism. Really, all we want is, to turn and rely on empirical beings, rather than turn to a God that has remained silent for far too long. Everything is written in stone for religious people; their paths in life are pre-determined and those whom do not believe in a God are lost in the immoral and chaotic world of atheism.  Obviously religious people feel that God has directly told them their path in life but once again these people feel they are more important than they actually are. This would be absolutely fine if they kept these views to themselves, but to inflict them on the young is in my eyes categorically wrong. Teach your children what is right and wrong but do not base morality on what a book says, that was supposedly written thousands of years ago. If people are really so naive to believe everything that is written in a book, I fear the worst for future generations that think the messiah is Harry Potter and Hogwarts is heaven.

Change

A really abstract poem written negatively about change. Obviously some change is good, but for the purpose of this poem it is written from the perspective that change is not good. Hope you enjoy :)

An unrequited exchange: life

Like a broken camera: Change

Finds it hard to process colour,

No explanation for the strife,

The black holes will tarnish

And the fabric will wither,

Memories are fluorescent,

Fluorescently beautiful,

But time will fade,

And time is a blade

Time has the power to erase,

It will obliterate your sweet past,

And leave you with Change.

I am Change: a spontaneous killer. 

1 week

This time in a week I will be at university and to say I can't wait would be an understatement. I am going out tomorrow to go shopping with mum to get some last bits including some socks because most of mine are consumed with holes. Mum is watching TV at the moment whilst eating crisps and the munching just reminds me of how annoying it is when people eat in the cinema. Jonathan Ross is also wearing a ridiculously purple suit which reminds me of how stupid I looked when one uniform day I dressed in all purple and nothing else. I hope to think I dress a little bit better now...

The last few days I was in Portsmouth going to visit Conor. We ate a lot and we drunk a lot. The taxi driver that took us to the Indian restaurant we went to was called Harry (I don't know why we got on first name basis) and he was perhaps over friendly. He insisted that if we told the waiters 'Harry sent us' it would benefit somehow.However,  we were more concerned with the fact that one of the waiters looked like Mr T. We made sure we told him we liked his beard and he seemed most grateful. That night the fire alarm went off at 3am but Conor told me and Dale to get into the rhythm of it and we would be able to sleep just fine. We didn't sleep just fine.

In other news my cat is an Emo. He has taken up the hobby of eating himself and for some reason my mum thought the best course of action was to put nappy rash cream on the wounds.

What will become of this family?

x

London Underground

A poem that was inspired by my journey through London today. Hope you enjoy :)

A vibrant darkness looms below: like

Headless poultry in a battery farm.

A commuter’s paradise; to and fro,

Alarm bells raise- don’t touch my arm-

Avoid the times of nine and five,

For this is when the rats do thrive,

Please ensure you mind the gap,

If you don’t you’ll turn to crap,

Acquire a taste for odious smells,

Embrace the chewing gum on your seat,

Read the paper: your face will swell,  

The world is anything but sweet,

It’s hard to believe just what’s up there,

The wonderful novelty- of cold air,

The shadows turn a lighter shade,

The filthy particles- I shall evade!

A vibrant darkness looms beneath,

I prepare myself with gritted teeth.

'Innocent' Eyes

Okay- this poem is a weird one for me. I wrote it with the intention of giving the perspective of a young innocent baby. However it became funner to write it from the perspective of a young baby that isn't as innocent as we perceive. Almost written with a manipulative and sarcastic tone. Be interested to see what people think.

I watch the world through innocent eyes,

With muffled sound and routine cries,

As delicate as a new-born lamb,

It’s far easier viewing- from a pram,

But things can turn a solemn grey,

The horrors of having to play, play, play

The same old toys and ancient stuff,

My Mummy can’t see me huff and puff,

I cannot speak, but I observe

The delicate nature of adult nerve,

But I’ll just sit here in my chair,

No need to bother, No need to care.

I’ll let the food run down my face,

And shed a tear just in case

My mummy decides to shout and scream,

She just sussed out my evil scheme,

I take advantage of my age,

the naive myth I can’t engage,

I laugh at you with innocent eyes,

To buy it would be most unwise. 

A Levels

An arguably dramatic account of A levels. However, they were bloody horrendous.

This routine world is not for me

 A tick of the box- why can’t you see

That jumping hoops is a pointless task?

 No flair is shown, behind that mask

This mask I speak of eats your face

The stick you bite, a sour taste

Alien to the warm embrace

of life beyond our trace, trace, trace.

You trace away for old times’ sake

The lies of what I know as fake

Oh how we all will rue the day

That deathly time of year is May

May, the time where progress halts

The constant inkling that so revolts

Informs the being to look beyond

Expand one’s self, explore Le Monde.

The spoon will soon resist its feeding

Thank fuck I say, my soul is bleeding

Optimism V Pessimism

This has to be my favourite poem I have ever written. If it is not already clear- the blue font represents Optimism and the red Pessimism. I hope you enjoy.

I am Optimism; a rich man’s game,

An idealistic luxury- this is my fame.

A green eyed delight,

Does the pessimist envy?

The lack of bother,

The lack of frenzy –

  Well I am Pessimism; a poor man’s plight

 I am realism, and yes, I bite-

I bite the wonders of your mind

And leave the nasty bits behind

So in response to your claim of envy,

Indeed: your comfort does offend me

Well as this tide will drown your face,

You need my counsel, I’ll act with haste

Learn to decipher: the future- not the past!

These thoughts will ease,

These thoughts will last...

I must interrupt, for you fail to see-

The future is the present me

You can hide, but I shall seek

To make sense of what I know as bleak

You can live behind your mask,

Your pretty future and

Your pretty past.

Mr pessimist- we will agree

That our fate will be to disagree-

Yes, we’ll walk our separate ways

And I will fight another day

Fight as you please, I have tried to share,

It seems being optimistic...

Is quite rare. 

The Creative World Needs No Justification

The creative world needs no justification. Innovation it breathes, aptitude does it feed, but most importantly, the voice given echoes through the pale, motionless, and frankly mundane industrial world. To lack artistic flare, means one instead must maintain the cyclic and inevitable process of life. But why uphold humanity’s strife for resources, unless there is a greater purpose to live for? This greater purpose is the Arts: the tantalisingly, quaint, and perplexed words of poetry, the invitingly delicious flow of prose, the haunting of the camera, the vibrancy of film, the ingenuity of art, and the diversely erratic nature of music.
The creative world takes these forms, and these forms are the food of society. Whether you are creative or not is irrelevant; we all depend on it equally, and within its absence we cease to be inspired, we cease to believe, and we cease to be motivated.
The creative world believes in the ability, motivates the abilities of others, and inspires the world to continue its dissension.
So before you ask me why do I bother with all these 'meaningless' creations, reflect on your artistic resources to the point of exhaustion, refrain from binding your imagination as one, and most importantly ask yourself one vital question.
Why not?
The creative world needs no justification.

Jeremy Kyle and the Dentist.

There is a man from Jamaica on the Jeremy Kyle show and he has two gold teeth.. Why would anyone want a gold tooth? There is also this small lady that is getting basically trampled on by this fat woman with glasses. This program is perfect therapy for anyone feeling bad about themselves..

Talking of teeth; I am dreading going to the dentists on Thursday. They just seem to have this sort of arrogance about them that teeth are the most important things. They won't be impressed when I reveal I haven't been in over two years. You don't get your other internal organs checked every six months so I don't see why there is such an emphasis on teeth.

I want to turn off the Jeremy Kyle show now because there is only so much I can watch. The remote is out of reach though so it looks like I will have to see this one out.

Time

Like the kicks of an unborn baby,

It lies there. Awake. In the dark.

The haunting of the camera,

It flashes from afar.

Because,

My past will always be,

My future.                                                           

A Metaphysical Love

The world- in all its animosity,

A predator, ready; ready to jump

Out of its skin, and feed.

Feed, feed, and feed.

Gluttony, excess, and greed.

Feed, feed and feed.

The world- no rights to its charge

Love be the only worthy predator

Ready to jump, out of its skin,

And feed.

Do I doubt love? Yes. But

It defeats the world nonetheless,

And it creates a two,

A two

Between me and you

I welcome the world,

Because love welcomes me.

Philosophy

I wrote this poem when I probably should have been paying attention to a teacher. Not for religious eyes...

 They dribble; and they cry

At the sound of his prowl

Contemplate, commiserate and

Just tell me how?

To ask is to dare,

And to dare is to fly

But to fly is to dwell into scarier skies.

They say that ignorance is bliss,

 And this I have learnt

And by seeking the truth,

My soul may be burnt

But fuck you God,

And for all that you stand

You- nothing but a trade

A sleight of hand

And thus I deduce

That to pry is to die,

I will escape the cave

And learn how to fly

Faith be convenient,

An essence of the weak

An old times tale, for the silly

And the meek.

You may call me sad, and

You may call me bleak; but

Blood, sweat and tears is

The reality of the week

Death is nigh

And hope will fail,

We all fall victim,    

Dead, doomed and frail.

So hence I speak, and here I denounce;

The wrath that be entire  

No fool am I, no fool will be

If wrong, I’ll face the fire

So let logic prosper

For all to see,

Or let logic die?!

The truth be not He.

So breathe,

Breathe.

And breathe,

In philosophy.

  

A light hearted blog to start off with a high possibility of turning deep.

I am actually really happy at the moment: I literally cannot wait for university as it just feels like I am just waiting for my life to start properly. It also doesn't help that the majority of my friends have moved to their universities whilst I just sit and indulge myself in the Jeremy Kyle Show and Come Dine With Me. It is not so bad though I suppose. Well daytime TV is quite bad, but it is the only time in my life where I will literally have nothing to worry about so I suppose I should make the most of it!

September has been a really weird month so far, with some not so great things happening. Although, I think things are going to get so good soon and I am just waiting for that really. It seems that this blog isn't going to get as deep as I thought it might but as it is my first one I feel I should hold back a bit. It will be one of the only ones I do hold back on though!