Tag Archives: bullying

TASKS AND PASTS

I have this book called “365 Ways to get you writing daily, inspiration and advice for creative writers” by Jane Cooper.  I have been thinking about what to post on my blog to keep it active, I am not sure I want to post up my snippets for actual things I am planning as I find it a bit personal, but I thought that perhaps these tasks would help me show you my creative writing so you can critique me, thus help improve my style or enhance my work. 

I don’t lack confidence in my writing, because each to their own and I understand that not everyone is going to like my stuff, but I do want to be more involved with my blog and I do want to know if my writing does need more improvement.

I don’t want to worry about grammar and punctuation at the moment, because the priority for me is to get writing and be more active in the creative community than be a pedant, because being a pedant (and coming across many other pedants) was what made my writing stop for several years.

I have many friends who are artists and not many that are writers and the artists tell me that the worst thing that any artist can do with their creativity is to try and make it too perfect before it’s finished, because then you lose the heart and soul of your work and nobody will like it then; writing is not different, many writers like to look at themselves as a form of artist and visual artists like to consider anyone who is creative as an artist too!  Actors = performance artists, writers are verbal artists, painters are visual artists, singers are music artists, you get the picture – if you are creating something or trying to show something in a new light YOU ARE AN ARTIST!

One big thing I learned recently is that my writing from 2002 is completely different than the writing I did in 2008 and though you would think that I had been writing that time and had obviously improved my craft, you would be wrong!  I became a pedant and people who read my work were also pedants, they were grammar Nazis and they were not interested in my genre and they were going on about honing in on my style of writing before I actually wrote the stories I aimed to write to the extent, I found I lost my heart and soul and so did my stories.  I became a show don’t tell writer who turned into a tell don’t show writer and I didn’t know it until only last month, when I was revising three neglected stories to revive, two of which came from before 2002 and were rewritten in 2008 and 2016 – that is how I could tell that I had lost my way. 

I also sat back and wondered about why I had lost my passion to research, read and write?  I blamed a lot of things and people for it, but ultimately it was because I had lost heart and I was no longer giving momentum to those three things that used to bring me joy every day.

I lost contact with several of my favourite forums and journal sites because of some spiteful bullying I endured at the beginning of 2009 from a scorned ex – that broke my network big time, I had developed decade long relationships which were broken down very quickly with his childish games and I just didn’t want to be anywhere where his energy had been at the time.  This caused me to go into what I call “Creative Isolation”.  I had only two creative friends who stuck by me after that event which spread across thirty websites!

But anyway, the blame still lies with me.  I allowed this to affect me in such a way that I created this creative bubble around myself, thus my writing suffered due to lack of oxygen and lack of oxygen made me lose momentum and once momentum is gone it takes will power and a lot of pushing yourself to get it back again, but you can get it back again. 

This is why I mentioned the above book.  I am going to do tasks in the book and post them on my blog for you to critique, I may not respond for a few days at times, as I often forget to check my mails and comments, but I will get to you in time.  I take my craft very seriously, sometimes too seriously that I forget sometimes that it is supposed to be fun.  I know the book has 365 ways, but I will not do one task per day, I may do many a day or my own random tasks whenever I can.

Another post may follow tonight, dependant on what’s going on with the family tonight; We’ve been pretty busy lately and it’s not just me who appears to be sick either, so bear with me. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under About my work

Going deaf to your misery

 

royalty free image from pixabay

DISCLAIMER – 

The below poem is not meant to be offensive – I am personally a sensory impaired member of society, I am very short sighted with astigmatism and I am totally deaf in my right ear with only 35% hearing in my left ear and I could potentially lose that, considering I have auto-immune inner ear disease.  I have only learned to develop a sense of humour with the cards I’ve been dealt with in life, please understand.

 

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of deaf

I shall hear no evil, but see a lot I might

Though I hear not the barks that scold me, I see the awful sight

Evidence of those who hate me are seen everywhere

And they sit back and they think that I really, really care

But yea, the mind is full of ego

And they shall think of themselves

I shall sit in wonderment, why they don’t put the hate on their shelves?

I wonder why every day, why they think of me?

When I have left them long ago, yet they still want to torture me?

Then I realise that those poor dears, they do not have a life

So that is why they taunt me, with curses and poisoned words of strife

They of course have an ego too, that you can be sure

That they sit around every day gossiping of the times of yore

Becoming old and bitter, making their friends think that they are a bore

By choosing to focus on the dead past, the past that makes them sore

And I sit back still amazed, that they have chosen to concentrate

On things about me, each and every day, because poisoned words always finds a way

To go back to the victim

You see that’s the side effects of your conviction

Gossip not and leave the friction

 

 

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Filed under Poems G - I

Painkiller for my very soul

I am not wallowing in pity each and everyday

My poems of woes and misery are things that ease the way

It’s a painkiller for my very soul

I need to write, even if it’s dull

It helps to cure the pain

When I write my songs of misery, it may seem like it’s about you

But it is about events that happened long ago, it’s true

You should not sit there thinking, this is one is about me I’m sure

Because then you only open up wounds and make your heart go sore

You don’t know what my poems mean; you don’t know who they are about

So don’t sit there thinking you know what’s going on, when in fact you don’t know my clout

The world in my poems isn’t about you, so stay out

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Filed under Poems P - R

Feather Boy

About ten years ago I watched a lovely fantasy series called “Feather Boy” on the television and I was taken by it completely enough to finally read the book; a book I was lucky to find at a charity shop a few weeks ago; such a beautiful tale about a little boy who is bullied and is then asked by his school to do a project at the local care home, where he had to befriend one of the elder residents.
He gets chosen by a lady called Edith Sorrel; this took the boy (called Robert) by surprise as he is the boy that never gets chosen for anything. Little did Robert know at the time that the reason behind Mrs Sorrel’s request for them to work together on the project was because Robert resembled her long dead son, David!
The story starts off like a mysterious ghost story; there is a mild horror element to it for the age range it’s aimed at (9 to 13yrs) and some very mild swearing. However, the gist of the story was that Mrs Sorrel wanted Robert to visit an old house she knew of thirty years ago; a house that is utterly derelict and has a bad history that gives the local children the heebie jeebies. The true story however was less adventurous and in Robert’s mind, disappointing.
The story teaches a lesson, a lesson that it’s easy to make something out of nothing; easy to misunderstand people and have an overactive imagination. The story is written around an old story about a prince who wouldn’t speak and a great firebird. This story is all about rebirth on many levels, it’s quite a spiritual book, very touching and for the first time in my life I have actually cried at an ending I knew would happen.
So, if you love tales about rebirth, revenge, growing up, courage and phoenixes, this book is very much for you.

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Filed under reviews

a victims wish

I’m not the same as you; I don’t watch soaps on TV

I’m not in agreement with you, when you use chemicals on spiders and bees

I am a different person, everyone is, and that’s true

So how can you judge me, just because I’m not like you?

Would you like it if I said, you’re better off dead, because you have blond hair?

Would you like it if I said, you’re bony and unnatural, no you wouldn’t that wouldn’t be fair

Would you ignore my harmful chants if I said that you looked gay?

Would you ever feel the same again, after the things I’d say?

So how can you judge me, for the way I am?

How can you past judgement to a stranger on the sand?

I don’t know you, nor you me

So why do you feel the need to always correct me for being me?

I am large and I wear glasses, I have a burden to bear

Why do you need to make life more difficult, by your comments and your stare?

Set aside your viper tongue and live at peace with all

Who are you to judge other people, on what they look like have some gall

It doesn’t make you look big around your friends you know

Because behind your back they say things about you, that you wouldn’t rather know

Just keep your poisoned tongue silent, look and love the world

Don’t judge the strangers on the street, or fate on you will whirl

You won’t always be perfect my dear, slim or unblemished – one day you’ll see what you’ve done

Punished by fate that your victims wished

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Filed under Poems A - C

my tin of brains

My mind is like an ocean where many thoughts do swim

Without them I am empty, like an opened tin

My thoughts are what makes me unique and who I am

But many people try to empty my can

I am just a human; my thoughts are my pride and joy

But people insist in changing me and this it does annoy

Why can’t people leave alone others with their thoughts?

Why can’t others see the light, it’s easy to find the torch

How can you be judgemental, when you’re unique too?

How can you keep judging others who are not you?

If you want peace, accept more, for who and what they are

For if you don’t you’ll surely soon, lead a lonely path

Many minds aren’t empty, though tight their lips may be

Because they’re scared of being known by people like thee

By people who will curse them or try to cut them down

By people who are monsters, who say they’re only clowning around

But words do cut us deeply and hurt us every day

So stop with your judgements and leave people alone today

For if you want peace on earth, enjoy the variety

Of other peoples looks and thoughts and relish in niceties

All it takes is a kind word, whether you’re telling the truth or not

If you think unkind things about others, then you should simply rot

You’re missing out on good friends by being the way you are

You’re a shallow hollow person who lives for repertoires

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Poems M - O

Life is just cruel

What is the point of living when everyone wants a fight?

What is the point of talking if they don’t believe your plight?

What’s the point of contact, if you’ve nothing to say to each other?

What’s the point of talking if they won’t believe one and other?

What’s the point of life at all?

I’m at a lost, life’s just cruel.

All I want is a bit of peace

A little quiet in the least

Why can’t people let me be?

Why am I denied to be free?

Just leave me alone

That’s what you can do

There’s nothing to talk about

Just make do.

Let me ignore everyone from my past

So I can find my peace at last

 

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Filed under Poems J - L

Saying farewell to your past

Sometimes you’ve just got to abandon all that you once knew

It is better that way, don’t let things stew

If people bring you down, whether they’re family or not

Then you are better off without them, or else your life will rot

They zap out all your energy

They throw away your years

And even worse than that, they fill your days with tears

Guess what?  You’ll be strong without them

Your life will see better days

You can do anything

Without their criticizing malaise

Go ahead and you’ll see

New friendships will occur

Just dust yourself down and say farewell

To your past and your wreckers

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Filed under Poems S - U

For you are not perfect, I say

A tragedy is when humanity has lost its compassion for its fellow man

To cause him grief whenever you can

To comment of how he looks and lives

Yet you know him not

How can you do this, will you stop?

You are tearing lives apart by words

You have the voice of cowards

If things were turned and you were scorned for how you looked today

How would you feel when you get home, after you’ve walked away?

For you are not perfect, I say

It isn’t a laugh when you’ve said those things about a person’s weight

It isn’t funny when you’ve hurt your classmate

For her scars

For her red hair

It doesn’t matter, but you should care

A joke is not the excuse for causing her despair

Stop this hatred, stop it soon

Or someday judgment will bring your doom

I’m not talking religion here, but someday nasty words you’ll hear

And it won’t be you who is giving them

It will be another who’s chosen you to condemn

You are not perfect I say, but what you have now; let’s hope you keep it, hey?

For you never know what might happen

An accident to your face may rapine

I give you no threats but a warning

Don’t monish peoples adorning

For you are not perfect, I say.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Poems D - F

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Filed under Poems J - L