Here's the micropoetry I wrote in April!
I'm planning on posting one or two other micropoetry posts very soon, since people seemed to think it was a good idea when I suggested it last month.
I was going to do it in April, but, *shrugs* life happens. So I'm hoping to get at least one done by the end of May. (Emphasis on hoping!)
Dora Reads is the book blog of a Bookish Rebel, supporting the Diversity Movement, bringing you Queer views and mental health advocacy, slipping in a lot of non-bookish content, and spreading reading to the goddamn world! :) (All posts may contain Amazon links, which are affiliate, unless marked otherwise. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. USA ONLY - please do not make UK purchases with my links)
Showing posts with label original writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label original writing. Show all posts
Wednesday 3 May 2017
Wednesday 5 April 2017
Micropoetry - March 2017
The end of March means that it's time for the wrap-up of my micropoetry!
(Yes, the same micropoetry that I inflict on my Twitter followers throughout the month, collected into one handy-dandy blogpost!)
(Yes, the same micropoetry that I inflict on my Twitter followers throughout the month, collected into one handy-dandy blogpost!)
Tuesday 7 March 2017
Micropoetry - February 2017
You know the drill by now - and if you don't, here's the low-down:
I write micropoetry on Twitter and once a month I put it all together in a wrap-up post :) Got that? Awesome! On to the poetry!
I write micropoetry on Twitter and once a month I put it all together in a wrap-up post :) Got that? Awesome! On to the poetry!
Wednesday 1 February 2017
Micropoetry - January 2017
Ok, January 2017's micropoetry by yours truly.
There's only 3 pieces this month because I've been uber-busy with work, personal stuff, and #DisabilityDiaries2017
There's only 3 pieces this month because I've been uber-busy with work, personal stuff, and #DisabilityDiaries2017
20th January
Strength.
Not shouting the loudest.
Not hating the most.
But loving all you can.
Getting back up.
Facing another day.
That's strength.
25th January
You do not understand
As I take you gently by the hand
& tell you
no
& try to stop you pushing the knife
further into me than you have
28th January
But my dears,
The rain
Is just the part
Of the sky
That we can touch.
And
That touches us.
Like this post? Try these:
Monday 9 January 2017
The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, December 2016
January may have rung in, bringing 2017 with it, but I'm sure I won't be alone in having 2016 business outstanding.
So, to that end, let's get one piece of that business done and dusted, shall we?
This is all the micropoetry I wrote in December. I've grouped the poems for the 9th and 12th together because they're sort of... companion poems.
Hope you like it!
1st December
I remember
That she said to me
'Honey,
I'm a worker bee,
but the taste
is not so sweet,
as it should be.'
9th December
A silent agreement
That we would give our hearts to each other
but each keep our own.
I knew & you knew.
We knew we'd never speak of it
12th December
We danced in serious nonsense
Words of Narnia & diamond smuggling
They thought we were fools
& we knew that our game was reality's mask
15th December
There was a murmur,
A rustle in the secret-keeping trees,
And our open secret turned out to be the tragic truth.
Your death killed her.
29th December
When we grew up
We learned
That the woods are full of big bad wolves
And we must defend Red Riding Hood
With sticks and stones
31st December
To you
You incredible people,
Who made me feel worth something
Who made me smile
Who inspired me & kept me going
Happy New Year
Like this post? Try these:
So, to that end, let's get one piece of that business done and dusted, shall we?
This is all the micropoetry I wrote in December. I've grouped the poems for the 9th and 12th together because they're sort of... companion poems.
Hope you like it!
1st December
I remember
That she said to me
'Honey,
I'm a worker bee,
but the taste
is not so sweet,
as it should be.'
9th December
A silent agreement
That we would give our hearts to each other
but each keep our own.
I knew & you knew.
We knew we'd never speak of it
12th December
We danced in serious nonsense
Words of Narnia & diamond smuggling
They thought we were fools
& we knew that our game was reality's mask
15th December
There was a murmur,
A rustle in the secret-keeping trees,
And our open secret turned out to be the tragic truth.
Your death killed her.
29th December
When we grew up
We learned
That the woods are full of big bad wolves
And we must defend Red Riding Hood
With sticks and stones
31st December
To you
You incredible people,
Who made me feel worth something
Who made me smile
Who inspired me & kept me going
Happy New Year
Like this post? Try these:
Wednesday 30 November 2016
The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, November 2016
Well, I certainly wrote more this month than I did last month.
I have no idea whether any of these are any good - but here you go anyway; enjoy! (Or not. Whatever.)
4th November
Princesses are flawless
Pale, weak, & soft
Born to be brides
Princesses don't kiss princesses;
Girls need to be princesses -
Right...?
13th November
Fight for hope.
Fight for people.
You'll make mistakes,
Get up & do things better.
Treat people like people.
Love with your whole heart
16th November
We told you
That the fire
Was burning
You laughed
And stuck your hand in the flame
Told us to do the same.
Unlike you, we felt the pain
24th November
I put my heart
Into it all
& how I tried
To make it count
But you can't please all of the people
All of the time
No matter how you try
Like this post? Try these:
I have no idea whether any of these are any good - but here you go anyway; enjoy! (Or not. Whatever.)
4th November
Princesses are flawless
Pale, weak, & soft
Born to be brides
Princesses don't kiss princesses;
Girls need to be princesses -
Right...?
7th November
Sweethearts
- because your hearts are sweet, aren't they? -
remember that people are people
Who love & live & hope & wish
Just like you
13th November
Fight for hope.
Fight for people.
You'll make mistakes,
Get up & do things better.
Treat people like people.
Love with your whole heart
14th November
People are fallible
They can be selfish
They can be short-sighted
They can be ignorant
The best ones try to do better
Even if they fail
16th November
We told you
That the fire
Was burning
You laughed
And stuck your hand in the flame
Told us to do the same.
Unlike you, we felt the pain
24th November
I see your face
In the weirdest of places
And it never seems
To be good news
24th November
I put my heart
Into it all
& how I tried
To make it count
But you can't please all of the people
All of the time
No matter how you try
Like this post? Try these:
Wednesday 26 October 2016
The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, October 2016
So, October is on it's way out, and it's time to show you the micropoetry I wrote this month.
It's kind of been an up-and-down month for me, depression-wise, so sorry if these are kind of a bummer... and there are only three of them.
Sorry.
10th October
How do they do it?
The charmed ones -
While we strive, struggle, scrimp, save,
The universe re-arranges itself,
To better suit them.
13th October
I'm so tired
Of feeling so tired
Not knowing what's required
of me. What should I do?
What do you want from me?
I'm so tired.
23rd October
Tired.
Running uphill just to stay in one place.
Tired of the struggle; of the fight; of the hate; of the dark.
Tired of being tired.
Like this post? Try these:
It's kind of been an up-and-down month for me, depression-wise, so sorry if these are kind of a bummer... and there are only three of them.
Sorry.
10th October
How do they do it?
The charmed ones -
While we strive, struggle, scrimp, save,
The universe re-arranges itself,
To better suit them.
13th October
I'm so tired
Of feeling so tired
Not knowing what's required
of me. What should I do?
What do you want from me?
I'm so tired.
23rd October
Tired.
Running uphill just to stay in one place.
Tired of the struggle; of the fight; of the hate; of the dark.
Tired of being tired.
Like this post? Try these:
Wednesday 19 October 2016
Aberfan
On October 21st 1966, 50 years ago this Friday, the village of Aberfan was changed forever.
A coal spoil-tip fell on the school.
Over 1 million cubic feet of industrial waste fell on the village, killing 116 children, and 28 adults.
We remember, and I give my small tribute here:
A coal spoil-tip fell on the school.
Over 1 million cubic feet of industrial waste fell on the village, killing 116 children, and 28 adults.
We remember, and I give my small tribute here:
Aberfan
The heart was hollowed from the land
You left the guts to choke us.
A mountain fell on innocent heads.
You faced no prosecution.
Our children meant nothing to you.
Just a poor man's son, a poor man's daughter.
Our children were killed
By a black heart -
A company, an industry,
which cared more for profit than people.
You murdered them with your neglect.
When we screamed 'Murderers!'
you told us we didn't understand
Inferred we should defer to our betters.
Westminster ignored our anger and our pain.
You expected us to bow our heads,
Mumble 'yessir, nosir, threebagsfullsir,'
and creep away.
A father, speaking for a nation, speaking for a people, speaking for his child
Insisted on the truth.
Died of asphyxia and multiple injuries?
You buried our children alive.
You took the heart from the mountains,
Left the guts to rot on a hillside.
And buried our children alive.
And we remember.
Wales will always remember.
You murdered
the children
of Aberfan.
Wednesday 28 September 2016
The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, September 2016
It's that time again dearest nerdlets! September is rapidly skimming out of view, and I have more micropoetry to share with you.
Sorry if several of these are kind of a downer - I learnt that someone I knew in school had died and... yeah.
I kind of worked through some stuff (the poems for 13th Sep will show you that,) so feel free to skip anything that's bringing you down!
9th September
13th September (I)
How am I supposed to feel?
They say you died;
A casual friend;
I hadn't heard your name in years.
How am I supposed to feel?
Tell me.
13th September (II)
Do I have a right to grieve?
5 years or more -
Must have been
Never close, even then
Just two birds of the same flock
One bird now dead
13th September (III)
A background fixture,
Left behind when I left the room.
Weren't you younger than me?
Or was it a few days older?
Young & pretty & dead
17th September
23rd September
2016
The year of mean.
Have my tears,
But cariad, I'm gonna sing
Over the heads of abject liars -
Reaching ears that may hear
me
2016
Like this post? Try these:
Sorry if several of these are kind of a downer - I learnt that someone I knew in school had died and... yeah.
I kind of worked through some stuff (the poems for 13th Sep will show you that,) so feel free to skip anything that's bringing you down!
9th September
Nothing deserves pity
More than those
who fear love & compassion
& turn instead to hate
Poor lost soul,
Find your way home soon
13th September (I)
How am I supposed to feel?
They say you died;
A casual friend;
I hadn't heard your name in years.
How am I supposed to feel?
Tell me.
13th September (II)
Do I have a right to grieve?
5 years or more -
Must have been
Never close, even then
Just two birds of the same flock
One bird now dead
13th September (III)
A background fixture,
Left behind when I left the room.
Weren't you younger than me?
Or was it a few days older?
Young & pretty & dead
17th September
No matter
How dark
It may be
There is light
There is good
You are loved
23rd September
2016
The year of mean.
Have my tears,
But cariad, I'm gonna sing
Over the heads of abject liars -
Reaching ears that may hear
me
2016
Like this post? Try these:
Tuesday 30 August 2016
The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, August 2016
Another month faffs off into the everloving history books, and I have more micropoetry for you :)
Hope you like!
(Also for some reason I seem to average four micropoems per month - random.)
16th August
We snipe at each other
Humans become trolls
Keyboards delete humanity for some,
But increase it for others -
Good web knights
22nd August
When I laughed
You thought that I agree.
No.
I didn't want to show
How badly your words
hurt me.
Like this post? Try These:
Hope you like!
(Also for some reason I seem to average four micropoems per month - random.)
9th August
My love, your hope.
Hearts tried to speak,
Yet never spoke.
16th August
We snipe at each other
Humans become trolls
Keyboards delete humanity for some,
But increase it for others -
Good web knights
20th August
Speed through a red light.
Go on. Go ahead.
But the flowers tied to that tree?
They're a warning,
Don't take them as a challenge.
22nd August
When I laughed
You thought that I agree.
No.
I didn't want to show
How badly your words
hurt me.
Like this post? Try These:
Wednesday 17 August 2016
Cracked Glass Slipper: Cinderella Part 2
Missed Part 1? Check it out here.
Alright, my nerdlets, after some escaping from nuns, I have finally found time to finish part 2 of this (slightly cracked) fairy-tale re-telling.
Alright, my nerdlets, after some escaping from nuns, I have finally found time to finish part 2 of this (slightly cracked) fairy-tale re-telling.
I have no idea whether it's any good - I do know that it's random, because let's face it, I'm a random kind of gal ;)
Hopefully I've restrained myself with the everything italics! problem I had in the first part. (Sometimes I like to stress things... a lot...)
(Some mild swearing and references to the sexy times.)
(Some mild swearing and references to the sexy times.)
Without further faffing then, here is Part 2 of Cinderella:
“...”
“No. Don't”
“I didn't say
anything.”
“You were going
to,” Sin snarled.
Tom paused,
“...Wouldn't you? You're dressed like a chubby six-year-old's idea
of womanhood.”
Sin gave him a
death-glare and crossed her arms over her poofy-dress clad chest. She
stalked into Tom's front room, cursing that little old lady with
every step. She looked like she'd just stepped off the stage after a
freaking panto; urgh!
Everyone stared, of
course. And Sin pretended she hadn't noticed. Because
she clearly didn't care what these losers thought. Of course not.
Yeah,
she definitely stood out in this crowd of nearly-naked half-drunk
folk bopping (because that really couldn't be called dancing, could
it?) along to some repetitive dance track that was doubtless one of
Tom's faves. People filled pretty much every corner of his
cellar-space. (Tom liked to have parties in the cellar. Apparently
it made him look cool.)
She
parked her satin (or was it silk? It could be freaking fairy-dust for
all she knew,) -wrapped butt on a bar-stool propped against the
corner. Tom thought bar-stools were classy. Seriously; he was
officially a douche. Why had she ever thought that this
relationship would work? Stupid move. Stupid, stupid, move.
She
stayed there for a while, hoping people would confuse her with a
large and very realistic doll – one of those creepy things lonely
old men dress up and take to the supermarket in documentaries about
kooky lifestyles (not that she was judging – it's just those dolls
gave her the creeps,) …or maybe she'd just blend in to the
wallpaper pattern. There was low-lighting in here, and she liked to
look on the positive side. Occasionally.
Tom
ignored her, in favour of 'dancing' with every other girl in the
room. Dancing… doing everything but make a baby with… same diff
as far as Tom was concerned.
Maybe
he was trying to make her jealous. She actually didn't care. It was
when he started dancing with Terri, whispering in Terri's ear, that
she got up to get a drink. And if there was a little more vodka in
her vodka-and-coke than she'd normally put there, then it was because
of the whole scary-magic-grandma thing, and nothing to do with Tom's
lips so close to Terri's skin. Nothing at all.
She
was having a bad day. She had Rumpelstiltskin's elderly aunt to
contend with, after all. Magic witchy ladies messing with her love
life – pretty much anyone'd need a drink.
-0-
“Sin?”
“Hey
Terri,” and Sin managed an actual, genuine, smile.
Maybe
the vodka helped. Maybe it's
just that it was Terri, and she wasn't dancing with Tom any more.
(Ok, so maybe Sin cared a little
about how close they'd been dancing. Just
a little. Barely any amount, really.)
“What
the hell is up with the dress?” Terri's fingers plucked
good-naturedly at the ruffles.
“That's
a very good question,” Sin nodded mock-sagely, “and I'm damned if
I know; I'm at this party against my will, in case you were
wondering.”
“Yeah…
Tom told me about...” she waved her hand vaguely in a swirly
motion, indicating the mess that was Sin-and-Tom.
Sin
had actually meant crazy-grandma-scary-magic-lady, but that was a
whole other train wreck/possible hallucinatory episode brought on by
a combination of stress and exhaustion; so she let Terri think it was
Tom drama. Because, hell, Tom drama took up a lot of her general
drama quota anyway.
“So
the dress is a form of protest? A statement about what you think of
Tom?” there was a gleam to Terri's dark eyes that let Sin know that
this wasn't a criticism, “Because if it's a message… it's not a
clear one.”
“Ahhh,
it's obviously to let me know she needs to be treated like a
princess!” Tom interrupted, swinging an arm casually around Terri's
shoulders.
“Which
you suck at,” Terri snapped, pushing his arm away, “because
you're a douche.”
Sin
grinned, and then tried to hide hide her smile behind a hand. Tom
didn't have an answer.
Terri
was right, of course, but Tom clearly had expected Terri to just go
right on ahead with all his Prince Charming crap, and just deal with
it. But it turned out Terri had claws. Good on her.
“Jeez
Terr,” Tom shrugged, “no need to be so sensitive.”
“Cut
the crap, Tom,” Terri replied, “All you've been doing all night
is trying to get in people's pants and make Sin jealous. Why she
keeps coming back to you, I'll never know.”
“Did
you get your period or something?”
“No,
I'm just angry at you, moron. You treat Sin like she's worthless, and
I'm just sick of you trying to be a macho-guy, or a cool-guy, or
whatever the hell it is that you think you're doing when you treat
people like trash! Call me when you're back to being you, Tom,” she
flung her bag over her shoulder like a soap-opera-diva, “Coming
with, Sin?”
“Uh…
yeah, ok.” And, slightly gob-smacked, she followed Terri out.
-0-
Somewhere
along the way, Tom'd become the kind of guy who gets his kicks out of
breaking a girl's heart. It was like he wasn't the kid she'd known
since they were ten. It was like underneath it all he'd become cruel
– icy.
Only
most people didn't see the ice. They saw Prince Charming. They saw
the smile, the nice house, the good job, the handsome face, the
success at such a young age when everyone else was barely scraping
by. They saw the man who was truly flattering when he noticed how
pretty you looked, and who could plead with you for something he
wanted until you wondered why you were denying him in the first
place.
These
people didn't see Sin's face when he did everything but have sex with
other girls right in front of her – when he was whispering stupid
stuff in Terri's ear and getting way too close for comfort.
It
was Terri who noticed Sin sitting in the corner in that ridiculous
dress (did Tom make her wear it? He'd manipulated her into coming to
this party, so Terri wouldn't put it passed him. Maybe he told her it
was fancy dress and he had the perfect outfit… what a jerk.)
Maybe
it was the dress that made Terri finally snap, maybe it was that
destroyed look on Sin's face… maybe it was the fact that Terri knew
all about every single one of the times Tom'd pressured Sin into
going out somewhere, only to cancel at the last minute, or told her
her clothes sucked in front of other people, or told her she was
needy or…
Whatever
it was, Terri'd finally had just about enough of what Tom was putting
Sin – beautiful, funny, strong, smart, Sin – through. And the way
he bragged about it – to Terri herself, of all people (did he know
she'd had a crush on Sin, once upon a time? Probably. It was just the
kind of cruel game he'd play) – it kind of made her want to punch
the smile off his face.
Honestly,
why had she waited this long to do something about it? Same reason
Sin didn't just tell him off, she guessed (Sin would tell anyone else
off, after all,) - Tom was a master at making you think it was your
fault. He enjoyed messing with people – at least, that was
what Terri'd ended up believing; he messed with you, turned you
inside out, then acted like it was all your fault.
Sin
stopped walking. And kind of stared at an empty parking space just
down the street from Tom's.
“Sin…?”
Terri asked, “What are you…?”
“Nothing,”
Sin laughed, “there's nothing there!”
“Well,
that's not true,” Terri corrected, moving forward to get a better
look at the spot, “There's a… is that a pumpkin? What the hell?!”
Sin
sat down on the kerb, heavily, and laughed with tears in her eyes.
What do you think? Please sugar-coat criticism ;D
Wednesday 27 July 2016
The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, July 2016
If you read this blog and/or my Twitter account a lot, you might know that I like to dabble aimlessly in micropoetry.
Micropoetry is basically poetry in the length of a tweet. Which is awesome, no?
So, without further ado, here's the micropoetry I wrote in July (which is hopefully a little more up-beat than a lot of my micropoetry has been in recent months!)
12th July
I'm fragile glass,
Can you take
Conflicting truths,
And believe
Both truths are real?
14th July
I know
It's never easy.
Just once
I wish
so hard.
18th July
You still don't get it
I'm not like you -
never was.
You're all made of sunshine,
but honey, I'm not.
I'm starlight,
I'm the stars.
21st July
Fingers dance across the keyboard
Pull the letters into the beat
Pirouette into a woven textile
Heart strings pulled along to the beat
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