Human

Humans are flawed creatures,
We lie, we steal, we cheat, we take lives.
Every mistake we make adds to our burdens,
In this ever chaotic world we call our home.
But through the howling madness of chaos,
We live, we strive, we fight to survive.
To make a name for ourselves,
To achieve and fulfill our greatest desires.
From our mistakes we learn and grow stronger.
To heal our fractured hearts,
To make up for our flaws.
That is what simply makes us . . .
Human.

A/N: I was searching through my creative writing folder from last year and came across this little piece tucked between the pages. Thought I might pop it up on the page. I think this was something I wrote with the intention to send it in for a competition but decided not too. Sounds a little bit too dark for some people's tastes.  

I'm now on Wattpad under the username LiulfrLokison, if you wish to check out anything I've put up. 

Sharpening a pencil (An eccentric girl)

The dark, blunt end scrapes across the pristine white surface, leaving a thick black line. The scrawlings are fuzzy and unintelligible; the girl sighs, exasperated.
Alone in her room, she scolds the pencil.
 ¨I sharpened you only a few minutes ago! You are very rude. At this rate you will be nothing but a stub by the end of the week!¨
She slowly pushes out the antique chair she was seated upon, plodding the short distance to her small rubbish bin.
Clutching her pencil and sharpener, she obsessively grinds the pencil down to a fine point.
Miniscule curls of wood and graphite tumble into the plastic-bagged abyss. The girl could imagine the sharpenings crying out in horror as they fell into the trash. She lightly touches the point of her writing utensil to test it.
Satisfied, the girl sits down and proceeds to contemplate her next sentence.

nightfall

nightfall

the evening star

serenades the dusk,

as ribbons of rusty sky are reflected

in the silver harbour

nestled between

the dark hills

who sigh their goodnights

to the calm sea beyond.

ink-blot clouds cling low to the horizon

and sheathe the crimson-globe sun

in their wispy embraces.

hear them murmur

to the pale moon

promises of a clear night

full of stars and

frosty grass

come morning light.

street lamps glow dull orange

dotting the hills

in scattered constellations;

man’s mockery

of the vacant sun.

rustles of motion

in the undergrowth,

in the branches of the peeling eucalyptus,

where the human hubbub

cannot reach them;

the night creatures stir.

among those who wake

is the keen eyed owl

with a haunting call.

listen to his cries;

he knows who owns

the moonlit hours

that lie before us.

National Poetry Day at Aotea 2015

Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads.

~Marianne Moore

A poem is a Tardis: so much bigger on the inside than it seems on the outside.

~Carol Ann Duffy

There are no rules of architecture for a castle in the clouds.
~Gilbert K. Chesterton

Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks.

~Plutarch

Poetry brings light to our empty world.

~Kirill

If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.

~Marcus Tullius Cicero

The pen is mightier than the sword

~Shakespeare

The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.

~Sylvia Plath

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.

~Carl Sandburg

If you cannot be a poet, be the poem.

~David Carradine

The Magic Chilli Sauce

One day I ate some chilli sauce
It was spicy and sweet
The fiery feeling that coated my mouth
You just couldn't beat
That night I went to sleep
With a fire in my belly
When I woke up again
My breath was rather smelly
At school my pal Matthew
Told a funny pun
I laughed hard and a fire burst forth
With the heat of the sun
Though my friend was melted
I smiled with delight
I have the power of a dragon!
With my fire I will smite
Legions of petty peasants
And scores of greedy kings
I will soon rule the land
With my fire and wings
I'm glad I became a dragon
Thanks to that chilli topping
Was it magic? I don't know
But the power has me hopping

Wedges

The spice
Sets fire to my tongue

The pepper
Sets fire to my throat

The wedge sauce
Sets fire to my being

The sour cream
Soothes my soul

Growing up

Run boy run, this world isn't made for you. Run boy run, don't do what they tell you to do

Run boy run, life isn't what you expect it to be. Run boy run, take this advice from me