Posted in Thinking Thoughts on a Thursday

Thinking Thoughts on a Thursday 8: Writing was a pleasure

It was my last week at my Writing for Pleasure course. It was a bittersweet moment of joy in a somewhat less than joyful day. The class started out with a chat about how lovely and talented Tom Hardy is, before we actually started the class. In all honesty, the Tom Hardy question popped up a couple of times during class too. Being not very social and not very confident at the best of times, I have grown to enjoy these people and many of them I will miss. That said, we all have shared e-mail addresses, I spend time with one of them on weekends and another is a fellow wordpress blogger. A third person of not is the lovely Sam Riley. I have posted her work here before https://misfitmunky.wordpress.com/2016/12/15/thinking-thoughts-on-a-thursday-7-yet-more-poetry/ and after asking permission, I wanted to post her latest poems. So that’s what I am doing. Feedback would be appreciated, so that I can send it back to her.

(As yet untitled)

I thought true love would feel like butterflies,
A feeling that ignites the very corners of the mind,
A passionate flame that would never die,
Matches made in Heaven, souls that were aligned.

Although I’m told we’re perfect, it’s left me so unsure,
Are the emotions that I’m feeling even love at all?
To me, it feels like waves when they kiss the shore,
Constant and unchanging, yet calming all the more.

It’s nothing like I thought love would ever be,
Nothing like the fireworks on New Years that you see,
It’s a shy appreciation between you and me,
Quiet and content, on this we both agree.

It’s not the kind of love that rocks you to your core,
Nor is it the kind of love you’d sacrifice your soul for.

But as dutiful as the tide,
And as faithful as the sea,
Like waves and sand, side by side,
There is always you and me.

 

Here’s another one, which I found touching, my wife (The MIGHTY Rosie) enjoyed and made a fellow student cry.

We spend the afternoon, tracing circles on skin,
You tell me you thought you’d never let anyone in.

“There was a time when I’d flinch away from people’s touch.”
I ask you how it’s possible to hate yourself so much.

The sad truth is, I already know,
But I wait for your answer that’s drawn out like a bow.

Your self-esteem is crippled and shrivelled at your feet,
That’s what happens when your ex is a cheat.

No matter how many times I tell you it’s true,
I’ve never seen someone as handsome as you.

You’ve carried your insecurities for far too long,
You’ll never believe me, you’ll tell me I’m wrong.

The thoughts that you’re battling, I know far too well,
I know how it feels to be a broken shell.

So I’ll pretend not to see the scars on your wrists,
Hidden away under all your bracelets.

Instead I trace circles with my thumb over your hand,
Look into your eyes and tell you that I understand.

We’ll both fight this together, so go grab a gun,
I won’t leave your side until this war is won.

I am glad to have had these people be a part of my life for a little while and while some I will keep in touch with, I’ll miss the feedback, the talking and oddly the very long digressions. This course taught me things about writing and two other things, I am a more pleasant and caring person than I gave myself credit for and I am and anyone reading this is a writer.

Ttfn internet people.

Advertisements

Author:

Liverpool based family man and unrepentant geek, trying to understand what's going on in my own head, which is not always being a good place to be. Remember always, we live in a world of wonders.

One thought on “Thinking Thoughts on a Thursday 8: Writing was a pleasure

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s