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Showing posts from 2012

HOLLOW

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My entry (and winner!) of  Writers Online  Monthly One Word Challenge for November. Poem of up to 40 lines based on the word  HOLLOW. Route Map  Here in the place where our story began             Walk down the road to the house we once knew       Hold onto my hand as we pass by the stream         Keep to the path where the children once ran                   Take the latch from the old gate and let it swing free Follow the trail of the borders of green        Take from your pocket the key made of brass Unlock the door to the essence of me         Step into the space that was known as the hall     Turn to the stairs which will lead to our room Pause at the fifth, even sit where I sat  while I waited and listened and longed for your call Climb to the landing which is carpeted gray Look through the window, remember the view Reach for the handle, turn it sharp to the right  Open the door to the room where we lay  Lie on the bed with
My entry (and winner of November's (24 lines)   Here in the place where our story began  Walk down the road to the house we once knew  Hold onto my hand as we pass by the stream  Keep to the path where the children once ran   Take the latch from the old gate and let it swing free  Follow the trail of the borders of green Take from your pocket the key made of brass  Unlock the door to which was known as the hall  Turn to the stairs which will lead to our room  Pause at the fifth, even sit where I sat while I waited and listened and longed for your call  Climb to the landing that's carpeted grey Look through the window, remember the view  Reach for the handle, turn it sharp to the right  Open the door to the room where we lay   Lie on the bed with your face to the sun Feel the smooth warmth of the blanket and sheets Place your hand on your heart and imagine it’s mine Prove to yourself that the future’s begun Hope what you have are the things that you sought Cry as I do for th

The Right To Defend Ourselves

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15.00 GMT on 18th November 2012 3 Israelis dead 50 Palestinians dead Israel's Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu says Israel is ready to "significantly expand" its operation in Gaza after shelling Gaza for the last 5 days. Rockets from Gaza have again landed in Israel, one causing damage and injuries in the city of Ashkelon. Eight Palestinian journalists have bee hurt in Gaza where two media buildings have been hit. Today at least six people have been killed in Gaza including two children from the same family. Both 'sides' have confirmed that attempts to reach a ceasefire agreement are continuing. US President Barack Obama says Washington is "fully supportive of Israel's right to defend itself"(BBC News) UK Foreign Secretary William Hague warns that a ground invasion would "lose Israel a lot of the international support and sympathy they have in this situation" but stresses that the Hamas movement, which governs Gaza,bea

The Windmill House

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The Windmill House The sky has changed since this morning, from a hazy grey to a brilliant blue. White cumulus clouds hover motionless above the roof of the house and the sun shines hot onto the back of my neck and uncovered head. I have walked across the causeway to the sound of herring gulls screeching their familiar call but now the noise has changed to the gentle chirruping of reed warblers as they dart in and out of the marram grass, blanketing this part of the island from the sand dunes to the gorse bushes around the pond. The old windmill still stands, tall and sail-less as it surveys the shore, watching the endless tides ebb and flow day in day out, and through all seasons. It was winter the first time I met you here. You stood on the turrets of the mill, waving and calling to me as  the wind tried to blow you from your viewpoint. Your words sailed away and out on the tide leaving me not knowing what you’d said. The door of the house opened outwards onto t

Evicted - Writers Online One Word Challenge

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Entry for  Writers Online  monthly One Word Challenge based on the word OUTCAST Evicted                                                                  No longer performing                                                                  at your best,                                                                 for you've lost your speed                                                                 and you've no control,                                                                 now your strength has gone                                                                 and the weakness shows -                                                                 it's time for another                                                                  to take on your role.                                                                Though you used to lead                                                                and you knew the way,

Pelican

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Pencil by Stewart Platt 6/11/12                                                                                                                                                   Haiku  Self - sacrificing, feeds young from her bloodied breast. A pelican’s love.

Please Prove You're not a Robot

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I've been trying to - but for now anyway, I've given up.  Granted I don't feel or appear very human most mornings. I blame it on a multitude of things from medication to reading until I fall asleep (then waking and reading more, falling asleep again and repeating this process umpteen times in one night ) But I thought that even I could prove what species I am or I'm not, to a laptop. Apparently not. I'd just read a very good blog post by  Sandra Patterson  and was keen to respond with my comments. So I typed the paragraph into the comments box on Google Blogger and followed the instructions which were "Please type the two words". I dutifully typed       02 mighta Now, I know you think you are already onto this. I did too. After all, anyone knows that that's not two words, but two numerals and a word. In fact it's not even a word technically, but let's not go there just now. So I then typed in  mighta on it's own. Maybe the trick

Poem In Process

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 Poem In Process I start  in the slush queue un - noted , unseen, unread waiting for another's perusal for the start of the journey perhaps with a request for change coming from a holding place. Released, revised, replaced I can now go on my way towards acceptance and publication or to be felled by the scarlet slashes of the correcting pen But maybe I will silently withdraw and leave you curious and wondering.

Poem In Process

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Poem In Process I start in the slush queue un-noted, unseen, unread waiting for another's perusal  for the start of a journey Released, revised, replaced I can go on my way towards acceptance and publication  or to be felled by the scarlet slashes of the correcting pen. But maybe I will silently withdraw and leave you curious and wondering.

The Naked Author meets The Fully Clothed Writer

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                                    Well, have to say my first reaction to the title of this article was to picture a rather unsavoury scenario of unclothed authors with notebooks, pens and laptops. The word 'laptop' conjures up all sorts of possible predicaments in this image – or maybe it’s just me. Anyway, the article in  Writers News  is nothing to do with nakedness as in baring one’s body, but more about baring one’s literary attempts, at the time of  inception. Author Silvia Hartmann will be using "Google Docs cloud-based office suite"  to let readers share her latest novel online as she types it. Followers will be able to access her writing progress using a public access web page which will go live at 9am on 12th September. Silvia says that the project is 'An amazing opportunity for me as an author to push the boundaries of the author/reader relationship. It will be thrilling to write knowing that people will be viewing each word, pa

Never put off till tomorrow, or the next day, or the next ...

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Just in case the reader of this blog fears that I may have slunk off with no intention of blogging again, I can put you out of your misery in this respect and let you know that I am still 'here' and relatively alert. I have been resting my body and mind recently - allegedly.My body doesn't seem to be responding much to the   resting mind you, as the same old aches and pains are around whether physically at rest or not. I have known for a long time that my mind isn't too keen on resting of course. I don't seem to have been born with the ability to relax, though I am quite  adept at explaining the many techniques to others who don't have a problem with carrying them out. It could be an age thing but like I say, I've always been the same, so I think it's more to do with personality or, I hesitate to say, laziness.  I have written many times about procrastination and know that writers and artists are renowned for it. But as time goes by I am more of th

The Beauty of a Staycation

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It's one of those words that stick in my mind and I keep using despite being determined not to.  Like "Glamping", I find this word cropping up in my limited vocabulary time and again over the past few weeks : Staycation - having a holiday without going "abroad ". I've reached that time in life when I can honestly say that I have been there done that and even bought the t shirts as far as holidaying abroad goes, though obviously there are thousands of places that I haven't visited but would like to. One day maybe, but not this year or next ...   It's a bit of a cliche to say that you don't realise how beautiful the place you are in is, until someone else tells you, but as much of my life tends to be a cliche, I am allowed to say it. And it is true. This photograph taken of the view from my window this morning is enough for me to never want to consider abroad ever again.  I'm not saying where my staycation is, but I might j
solitude war,gray,black,gray a house collapses to cry a bit. borrow from neighbours  bank some money, build it again get rid of our fear it won't collapse again in the war, the repeating is rare ....... a friends death mean to look, to the sky, yell and scream, to cry my solitude, to wear black, to walk with him to a final destination I am sure, he is not going to die again one death, we all have one death losing parents, become an orphan, permission to be angry. retreat awhile for 3 days, place the gardenia on freshly dug earth, return for the living, impossible to be orphaned twice pain is waiting, unknown moments, stop at the gap at the door. fear overfills, a tear drops silently, solitude. a breath. Neveen Abou el Ola  July 2012

War poetry

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solitude wa, grey, black, grey a house collapses to cry a bit. , borrow from neighbours   bank some money, build it again get rid of our fear it won't collapse again   in the war , the repeating is rare ... ............................. a friend's death mean to look, to the sky , yell and scream, to cry my solitude , to wear black, to walk with him to a final destination he is not going to die  again one death, we all have one death ...................... losing the parents, become an orphan, permission to be angry , retreat awhile for 3 days place the gardenia, on fresh dug earth, return for the living, impossible to be orphaned twice ........................ pain is waiting, unknown moment stop at the gap at the door. fear overfills , a tear drops silently, solitude,  a breath. Neveen Abou El Ola    July 20

When Words Are Not Enough - More Conversations with Neveen

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We all have those moments, when no matter how long we plan or carefully put words together the result is not enough for what we intend to say. Sometimes this is when someone is ill or has died and we struggle to let others know that we share their grief or anxiety and despair. often we have had similar experiences ourselves so it's natural to want and to be able to give comfort. Today I am not only lost for words but also lost as to how to feel and respond to a situation. Neveen is seventeen years old, one of five daughters of my ex's sister and brother in law. She and her friends and family watch tv, movies, chat on the internet and listen to music.She has her own likes and dislikes of most things, as any teenager. She has her own views and opinions and mostly these are quite different from her parents views, also as any teenager. Neveen reads a lot - poetry, fiction, whatever - and she also writes.  Perhaps this is why I feel an affinity with her which goes beyond

Letting Go - 250 words

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T he last of the sunset lingers behind the hill glowing orange as the sky darkens. Sitting beside your bed, I reach out and brush my fingertips onto the paper thin skin covering your cheek bone. I will you to respond to me, just a flicker of an eyelid or a ghost of smile. But you lie still and silent and a chill creeps into my soul. My memory does a rewind to the day we climbed that hill, laughing and stumbling as we tugged at each others clothes, trying to make the other go slower. You reached the top first and stood there arms above your head, waving and smiling as I collapsed, breathless onto the ground beside you. “Look, down there ! “ My eyes followed your pointing finger to the field below us where a small child held onto the string of a coloured kite. The kite swooped and swirled pulling the string taut then loose as the child struggled to stop it escaping. We watched spellbound, willing the kite to stay aloft. Then, in an instant, it was free of it’s teth

Excusing ourselves - or being unaccountable ?

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I've found them. The words that I can use as a get out clause for anything that I planned to do, spoke out about doing, wrote about doing - but never actually did do. Or the things that I have done that in hindsight were plainly stupid or inappropriate.         "It's a moving target - what we think that we are able to achieve"  states Nick Buckles, Chief Executive of G4S the security company who is making such a mess over fulfilling the contract for the Olympics that he accepted and signed.  Substitute the 'we' for 'I' and I reckon that many of us could put these words to effective use.  Did you plan to clear out the kitchen cupboards once and for all today but didn't quite manage it ? It's ok. As fast as you put things back neatly, someone comes along and takes  stuff out again. It's a moving target. Were you going to cut the grass but it's rained again and it's now too wet ? Not your fault. Moving target therefore ou

Paying For A Moment You Never Had ?

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Flicking through the telly channels this morning and came across this snippet of information - on the Matthew Wright  show. Someone on the show tried to buy an autograph of their hero John McEnroe from a friend who refused to sell it on the grounds that there's no point in shelling out for a moment you've never had. This then leads to the question - what are autograph hunters and memorabilia collectors doing with their lives ? Well. that got me thinking. I know I'm a hoarder desperately trying to distinguish between things that could be classed as memorabilia and general junk (or if you like, making excuses for not throwing things away) Many of us experience this situation at some time in their lives and others experience it for all or most of their life.  But I must say that when I look at my 'saved' items - photos, books, old tickets for shows, programmes, letters - I do have memories of being part of these events and occasions. Sometimes I have forgotten

Lady Bracknell will be turning in her grave

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The headline did make me do a double take : "Couple arrested at airport after trying to smuggle baby in hand luggage " There are strange, sometimes unbelievable stories in the news. Depending on which paper or website I am reading I usually skim over the ones that are not to my interest, but this one caught my eye.  Apparently, a couple were attempting to smuggle their 5 month old baby through an airport, when the security scanner spotted the baby in their hand luggage.  It was at this point that Lady Bracknell  's voice entered my head and I'm having trouble getting it out again.  Clearly, it was a very dangerous thing to do and not having a visa for the child seems a bit of a lame excuse for doing it. I hope the baby has not suffered any detrimental effects of any radiation from the x ray machine - and also that this is not the catalyst for a lifetime of claustrophobia. I understand from the report that that this happened in United Arab Emirates, but o

Haiku

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Haiku  Haiku in English is a development of the Japanese   haiku  poetry form. Most commonly haiku uses three lines of up to 17 syllables use of a season word use of a cut, sometimes with a punctuation mark, to compare two images. The idea is basically to paint a picture using few words and without "showing all". Here is my (winning !) entry for Writers Online One Word Challenge on the word SHIMMER Glistening pollen leaves shimmering afterglow on butterfly wings

Haiku

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Haiku  Haiku in English is a development of the poetic form of  Japanese   haiku  in the English language. Usually in English the criteria is  Using three lines of up to 17 syllables Using a season word ( kigo ) Use of a cut or  kire  to compare 2 images Haiku uses an  economical amount of words to paint a multi- tiered painting without telling all.  As  Matsuo Bashō  puts it "The haiku that reveals seventy to eighty percent of it's subject is good. Those that reveal fifty to sixty percent, we never tire of " Here my (winning!) entry on the word "Shimmer" for the