I need out of this painful shell

Morbid as it may seem, death to me is a dream

A way out of this painful shell, away from this constant Hell

I cannot make you understand

I cannot see that life is grand

When it’s accompanied by agony, hatefulness and tyranny

You see the end is best for me

As there’s more to pain than you can see

I need to go where I am free

From all this pain and verily, I am ready to go to sleep.

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Filed under Poems G - I

I love the twilight


The sky above the spinney is pale blue before the night

Darkness becomes denser and the shadows form under the royal coloured sky

The sky turns into shades of lilac, pink and violet before disappearing into the darkness with the deepest of indigo

The whole place turns silent in the coming of the dark, like some stark memorial from events that happened years and years ago

This time of day is known as “twilight” it’s something that I try to see each night

It calls to me, deep from within my soul

Something deep and dark but right




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Filed under Poems G - I

Sorry readers

I’ve had a lot on lately. No excuse I understand, but I have had a bad prolonged virus and tendonitis in at least four of my joints, particularly my knees and ankles. I was stuck in hospital for 4 hours on last Monday evening having X-rays. I hate leaving this blog neglected for as long as I do, so I have decided to write at least one poem a day especially for the blog and pre-post it on that little nifty thing called scheduled posting and I aim to have something posted on this site every three days at the very least.

Writing as a whole hasn’t been put on the side-lines; reading however, has been put on the side-lines, which is annoying as this virus came upon me during the time I had specifically ordered and paid for six particular books from the library (which would have been read within 10 days) and now they’re nearing their maxed out re-borrowing time of almost nine weeks. Seriously, to me, to read less than 3 books a week is a serious let down on my part, though to many people they would probably see it as no Biggy.

Anyway, this update is going to be short and sweet as it’s bordering on depressing my readers which is something I don’t wish to do. Next posts will be the 9 or so poems I wrote in bed during my sickest days.





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Filed under My life

feelings 1

I am trapped in a loveless world

When will my chains start to unfurl?

I feel though I’m here for eternity

Lost within a hapless sea

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Filed under Poems D - F



Smile at the judges

Do not make presumptions please

All stories differ

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Filed under Haiku's

Mummy, you’re not a salad!

Listening to children can inspire more writing as they say the funniest and strangest things.

My son Henry is only five years old, yet he inspires me every time he talks to me. Yesterday I was having trouble getting Henry out of my bedroom in the morning whilst I got myself dressed, I chucked him out of my bedroom no less than six times, before he started to initiate a game with me; the game – he was Mr. Wolf and I was Miss Piggy and he was going to blow the bedroom door down and eat me up. I told Henry “It’s too early and I am not dressed yet”, to which he replied – “Mummy you’re not a salad, wolves don’t eat salad they eat little piggy’s”, which I must admit took me aback.

So always take advantage of communicating with children whenever you can, because they will inspire you, particularly for comedy and fantasy.



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Filed under My inspirations

shrug the bad feelings away

Nothing is more comforting than a hug

To help you shrug the bad feelings of the day away

Sometimes it is good to let others know, the way that you feel today

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Filed under Poems S - U

Ravens up there

Ravens fly

Ravens high

Up there in the far blue sky

Diving here

Diving there

Flying circles in the air

Oh what comfort they give to me

Their bad reputation, it does deceive

For they’re just birds that fly on by

Whether black or blue like the sky


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Filed under Poems P - R

Horror and mental illness

One or two of my poems have been considered to be short stories in my mind by me, I thought this was enough – however my husband and a friend of mine mentioned to me yesterday that some of my poems are moreish and therefore they feel that I should work on making them into a larger story preferably novel sized piece.

My husband is quite persistent about two of the poems I’ve agreed would make a better larger story, therefore he is straddling me to the grindstone and making me get to work on them because I’ve been procrastinating on my leprechaun comedy for eleven years now and I am losing enthusiasm for it.

I’ve been advised by a friend too, that my fantasy work is good, but my horror is better as I seem to write more freely and graphically, which shows that this is where my genre should be. Funny enough I originally was a horror writer, I only entered the realms of fantasy within the last decade in order to get a wider audience and I was mistaken with the idea that I would be more free to do my own thing – in horror you can do that, in most other genres there does seem to be a general protocol.

I tend to read fantasy and horror but usually horror prevails as a reading choice for me, so therefore I know that I am more experienced with horror; I also have a sadistic, black sense of humour and a lust for shocking people; which I guess makes the genre perfect for me.

I know a lot of people are getting tired of vampires but, they are my favoured creature. However, I do love writing about mental illness (considering I have experience there too) and so writing about the horrors of the mind comes easy for me – particularly if it is regarding cruelty and isolation.

The novel I am attempting to write whilst I put my leprechaun comedy on hold is based around the self-harming and mental illness of a young girl who lives within an asylum and how she got there and why, the book will concentrate on the horrors of the occult, social services, abuse and isolation. There is more to the story, but I am not going to give things away, there would be no fun in that now would there?

So forgive me if the blog is neglected for a while, my husband really wants this story written and I am looking at my previous work with fresher eyes and I am very enthusiastic about this one. Who knows, perhaps it will become finished enough for me to have the confidence to post it up for YouWriteOn.com?

Ciao for now.



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Filed under About my work

Is this procrastination?

I am curious as to whether or not I am alone in how I write, or more to the point, what I write?

This has been posted because I am sure I am the world’s biggest writing procrastinator that ever lived, yet, I love what I do whether it’s productive or not. I don’t sit around all day long writing poems, stories and songs. I sit around and write mostly about what I have done, my opinions based on current events and my own personal philosophies and reviews of the world around me. None of this has been published on my blog and nobody except for my husband reads them. Why? Because I feel that the world doesn’t have an interest in unusual babble.

Forgive me if I am wrong, but are people really interested in my written lists of meal options I make for myself? Are they remotely interested in all the facts I know of edible weeds and insects? (Some might be – but I am no professional on the matter); are people interested in reading my weird dreams and thought processes? I am not certain, but I am pretty sure I am not very interested in a non-celebrities thought patterns and so therefore I think that is a majority of the world, isn’t it?

So therefore, in spite of me sitting around writing junk, is that really procrastination or is this a valuable source? I eventually include some of these strange writings or habits in some fiction I write, but it’s a rarity. So is writing anything, whether its unpublishable junk or not, really worth my time and effort and could it still be considered writing?

Actually I think it would be interesting for you to know that what you are reading right now, is one of those times I have every day – my unpublishable garbage; I often have arguments like this with myself that I never publish on my blog due to the fact that I feel you will all be disinterested to read it.

Many times things similar to this seem almost like ranting, but it isn’t. They are just thoughts flowing from me onto the screen at full speed ahead, none of it is planned and it is oftentimes derailed.

Am I alone in this? Or am I a budding professional? You tell me.




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Filed under About my work