Friday, November 21, 2008

Live not in the past (a healing phase)

fingers combing through realities,
past and present,
searching through words,
said,
and unsaid,
realizing that there was nothing there but air,
silence,
nothing said! 
nothing felt! 

A voice echoes in the distance,
it said, "wait",
and wait I do,
as the voice grows distant,
my feet shuffle towards the future,
it was just the ghost of childhood memories past.

silly woman! that girl is dead,
and you're a shell,
a cold, empty shell,
of memories past,
things felt,
yet nothing remembered. 


Full Post...

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Midday Sorrow


It was the middle of the day, yet there was no hint of the sun. The clouds – huge and an extremely dark shade of grey – covered the blue as far as the eye could see. Now and then, the clouds emitted low groans of thunder, as if their watery load was becoming too much for them… As if they were struggling not to cry.
Jessica sighed. Stood up again. What was more important that she this time? Watching a game with his friends? Or did he just forget?
Her eye sank to her hands, which rested in her lap. When she’d first met him, he was nothing like he was now. He was the sweetest guy she ever knew. He never missed a single date. And, like a jackass, she fell for the façade and then got to know him for what he truly was. For years, he promised to make up for everything. And for years, she actually believed him.
She wrung her hands as she struggled not to cry in this public place. She didn’t know why she put up with him. No, wait. Yes, she did. She had fallen in love with the man he’d presented himself to be. Now, she realized that man had died long ago.
He only wanted her because she was good-looking and to impress his friends. He didn’t care about her. Not at all…
She looked back up at the clouds. When she’d arrived, there weren’t nearly as many clouds as there were now. For hours, she’d waited and the empathic sky now reflected her sorrow.
The clouds let loose, no longer trying to contain the girl’s emotions. As the tears flowed, she promised to herself that she would no longer put up with this. She would not let herself suffer any more. She would end it.
Forever…

Ken Thomas


Full Post...

Vows

A façade of a family

That’s what you wanted

Praise for your show and tell project

Empty meaningless words

Arid eyes

Bruised knuckles

Sorry is as sorry does

you should know better than anyone

But it’s a little too late for sorry.



A real family

That’s what we wanted

That was the agreement

Our signatures were on the dotted line 

The powerlessness of faith

Only teary eyes and sodden pillows.

Misplaced trust,

Dashed hopes, 

And shattered dreams.




Full Post...

Monday, November 17, 2008

LOVE MADE PRISONER

Bombing her only protection, Breaking down her wall she's under arrest and sudden disarm
Silenced and cuffed with a bracelet of charm
Surrendering, there she finds herself lying vertically under his firm arch shaped legs, she learns there's never a prefect triangle neither is the shape of a human heart and with tears she accepts her defeat
Imprisoned by the prospect of love

Behind the bars she prepares to be sentenced to a live of love and happiness, looking out through a window her only hope is what tomorrow brings, the next day, the future. But then when hidden in darkness she prepares to be subjected to pain, stress, tears, heartaches and strain THE FIGHT TO KEEP THE DREAM ALIVE!

She wonders...am i the only prisoner or do i fight a secret a battle with other cellmates?

I'm innocent-Against the notion of love I've committed no crime, give me reason why I’ve been made prisoner. Let it be worth your time or set me free least I breakaway and never return or look behind.

LMP- Nifah B

Full Post...

TRUE PLAYER

I am an Athlete.
My sport…I play words.
I am not static but dynamic...dramatizing the motions of life.

My pen I leap into the air and with my fitness I hold it safely in my fingertips and Swish! It lands on paper and a poem, a story, a symphony spins and turns and concludes with a powerful flourish.

I've got styles...I call them rhythm, rhyme, analysis, logic, creativity, imagery, constant manipulation of words.

A process called...'conscious artistry'

A sport of the senses...no training, no discipline, just brain working. Yet it's an active past-time to play and frolic.

I kick, shoot, bat, bowl, throw, box, dive, run, cycle, ride, drive, skate and even wrestle just to get my words around.

Through my words many I defeat.
From my work, I erase mistakes and put them underneath.

On my court (my paper) with a thought like a buzzer in my head, words drips like ink from one side to the other.

My game I practice day or night, rain or sunshine. i don't whine because it's more like forever playtime, but yes there are times when it's an unacceptable crime.

Always freelancing, no need to chicken out.
Doing my thing, playing my game, even when to others it doesn't count.

True player…
Nifah B.

Full Post...

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Untitled

The taste of betrayal

Cloying and sweet

A brilliant smile cloaking

The blistering heat

Trust! Trust whom? Trust what?

Such an outdated emotion

Obsolete

Ripped to infinite shreds

Forced into a never ending ocean

Of tears, discontent

Maddening fear

A sister, a brother

A mother, a friend

Or a lover?

One can never know

How deep the rabbit hole goes

Staining the fabric of my soul

Adding colour to my world

Twist the knife

To end my life

Remorse and pity ostracized

Hatred ensconced in a knowing smile

No more players in this game

Hurt, anger, shock, shame

Rejection

dejection

No end in sight

Fight? But for what?

A premier spot in this web of deceit

this triangle of God knows what?

I’d rather accept defeat

Full Post...

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Welcome Everyone!

Welcome everyone to the new UWI Writer's Circle blog. This blog was established so that we can share our creative works; poetry, prose, drama, whatever the case may be. So i'm encouraging you all to support our blog.

Post a poem or two or three. You can add as much as you want so pls take advantage of it. This blog is here for you so let's make use of it.

So everyone lets start posting! We can think of this as our first foray into garnering exposure for our literary works. We've established this blog to foster a literary relationship with each other so we need your words:)

-"one blog many voices"



Full Post...