Tag Archives: love

Gathering creative inspiration

Gathering creative inspiration
I once read somewhere, though I can’t remember where exactly that for your personal creativity to be as original as possible and for you to develop a noticeable personality for your followers you need to be selective about what you put into your brain. Therefore, you must be choosy about what you want to learn and what you expose your brain to… the kind of stimulus you give your brain will determine the kind of work you are likely to produce.
With the above being said, it has some bearing to me. I have noticed that I am not easily influenced by regular fiction or classics or best-sellers, though some of my favourite books and stimulus have been best-sellers, by and large most of my stimulus has only been heard of by people of certain small sub-cultures.
I regard myself as a fantasy writer with a bit of horror thrown in the equation or vice versa. I am not really sure if I write more horror or more fantasy; though I suppose the readers of this blog will perhaps state that I am neither really, but a poet; I have however said in the past, that I do not put many of my stories up on the blog because I am never really sure if they are finished or not and even then, I am unsure if publishers will publish them if they’ve been on my blog first.
The things that stimulate me or have stimulated me will be noted below, I shall include music, movies, programs, books, individual people, artists and more and this list shall grow and grow over the years.
It will not be written like a list because I would like to explain the lure.
The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey has been mentioned on this blog before as a favourite of mine. I am not fond of stories regarding winter because I have an excellent imagination even in the blazing heat of the hottest summers on record and I would be sitting down reading books with snow in, feeling freezing cold – but this particular story gripped me because not only did it teach me about farming life in Alaska, it taught me that the best stories in the world always end in a way you are not expecting it to. It was the first book I ever read where the ending made me feel numb and a little bit angry, but not in a bad way.
Monty Python has always influenced the humour in me and their influence is often shown in my family fantasy stories. I love their silliness and the seriousness their jokes come across as, it is like their characters are acting as normal as anyone would in the same circumstances and why would it be any other way? Monty Python and Terry Pratchett have been very good in teaching me that life isn’t always the same in every world and that there are many ways a society can live and it would be perfectly normal to that society to be that way… I mean… why not?
Of course Terry Pratchett will get a mention on his own with disc world being a huge favourite series for me, his humour has no bounds. In fact, his is the first piece of fiction that is over 20 pages long that my seven year old son has started to read. In the last few days I have been reading 12 pages a night of Sourcery. He is so thrilled by it that it isn’t proving to be a very good bedtime story at all for him, far too stimulating! My son is quite a serious fellow really, he has a sense of humour but I think most of it got squashed during the ventouse, though he tries to joke occasionally bless him. He does how ever find it amusing if not weird that there is a world in this book where bed bugs will wave goodbye when the mattresses run away and that luggage will walk away from time to time and hassle publicans for crisps.
Ransom Riggs is a new favourite of mine, I only started reading him in mid-march 2017 and I didn’t discover him through his debut book either, I discovered him through “Tales of the peculiar” and I am so glad I did. His stories aren’t just good, they are haunting. They feel like they have been around for centuries, I swear I knew these stories from somewhere before, they feel so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it. I did my research, they are not copied, he is just so good that it feels old… the stories feel as old as Beowulf to me. They feel like they are part of societal fabric. I can see me developing an obsessive readership type love for this author if he carries on like this in the future! Part story-teller, part mesmerist I think.
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold is shocking, too shocking for some people to read beyond the first chapter, but to me it is a beautiful story if you can get over such a horrific subject. For me, it is about how a person’s spirit lives on even in death and how they can still influence the living by how they think and feel about the living – basically, the more the spirit thinks of the world, the more the world will feel the loss of the person. It also talks about the wonders of being dead; the freedom to create your own little haven and that paradise is whatever you want it to be, there are no real rules to paradise and the story ends in such a way that it shows that justice isn’t always done in a black and white way.
Susan Hill is a favourite, particularly her story called “The Man in the Picture”, it has a theme I adore more than most themes – a theme of a carnival, Venetian balls, Venetian masks with a dark veil. I love how it is almost like the picture of Dorian Gray, but with its own unique story. You can also sense a little of Roald Dahl’s The Witches in this story too.
The Nowhere Emporium by Ross MacKenzie is again a subject connected to mesmerism and carnival or more to the point circus acts and magicians as a matter of fact, mesmerism, circuses, carnivals, fantasy, comedy, horror, theatre, oddities, mimes, jokes, harlequins, jesters, pirates, gothicness, insanity and surrealist things draw me – they provide me with inspiration, which is another reason why I love the music of Nox Arcana as they provide music for all of these subjects.
I love the band Misfits and the insane clown posse, once again, circus and dark themes. I like Melanie Martinez as she is like someone who fell out of the suicide squad movie.
I like Batman purely for the villains, mainly Joker and Harley Quinn.
I used to watch WWF but I stopped shortly after The Big Boss Man died, I haven’t been updated with them since, I haven’t a clue what’s gone on since that big event. I wasn’t a huge fan of him, but I stopped watching it because I couldn’t get it on TV anymore in my area because my parents gave up digital. But I loved WWF and WCW because of certain themes wrestlers had, my favourites were, The Undertaker, the insane clown posse with Luna and the oddities, Kurgan, Giant Silver, I loved Gold dust and Raven, Vampiro, the misfits in action, mankind, Dude Love, Doink the clown to name but a few.
Up until 2015 I watched TNA on Freeview, I stopped watching when Mickie James left mostly, but I also liked Brian Kendrick.
There is an unknown author out there called Alex Weinle of which I won a giveaway of his debut anthology of short stories called “The Decapaphiliac”, he is excellent and is a new Neil Gaiman in my opinion, though there is absolutely nothing wrong with the real Neil Gaiman – this author is similar. I recommend them. He lured me with his fantasy, dark humour and the fact that he seems rather fond of cafes and market places like me.
I like dark humour a lot, I like Jimmy Carr and the mesmerist magician Rob Zabrecky, and they lean on the humour I tend to have the most, I have this Victorian quality about me, a seriousness that looks severe and when I am in a playful mood it can often be mistaken for insanity or instability.
Alice in Wonderland and the Wizard of Oz are as classic as I would go as far as literature is concerned, though I do love classic gothic horror especially by HP Lovecraft and the likes.
Neil Gaiman I am a fan of, the kind of darkness I love – Coraline, smoke and mirrors etc – delicious for the hungry mind.
Freaks the 1932 horror is wonderful too – I like it – to me it has a dark humour but also a moralistic undertone. Once again part of the pull for me is the circus theme.
Cirque de soleil also pulls me because of the circus theme, vampire circus, the night circus, Hetty Feather, Oz the great and powerful and the circus mesmerist feel of Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka.
I also like Victorian asylum themes; I love Dracula for that, Nightmare on elm street, Angels at my table, Chaplin the movie and once again, music from Nox Arcana with the album Blackthorn Asylum.
All these things, dark, mesmerising, surreal are what I love and what fuels my creativity.
I literally soak myself in everything that inspires me, if it doesn’t inspire me or grips me, then it goes, I don’t waste my time on it and my selectivity is unusual, it is strange and it is hard to find kindred in this type of darkness.
I just wish I would knuckle down and work harder and get brave enough to finally take the plunge and kiss my work into the black hole that is the post box and send it on its merry way to a publisher and onto your bookshelves, flying to you with black and white butterfly wings.

 

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Hatred needs to die

Intolerance needs to be shaken out of this world
Hatred needs to die
People need to stop being perfect and living the perfect lies
There is no one more beautiful than another
There is no one too ugly to see
There is only in this world and the next – personality
Ugliness is an illusion, of which you must overcome
Don’t carry on in your life hating, because that is very dumb
Why do you think you are perfect?
Why do you think you are grand?
Why do you think another, needs a violent hand?
What makes you so righteous, what makes you so mean?
Has the deceiver taken charge of your mind? Is that why you are undisciplined?
You pray to God on Sundays, you promise him a pack of lies
You hate your fellow neighbour
You live your life in pride
You don’t see yourself in this manner
You don’t see your hypocrisy
But if there is hate in your heart for another
Then you are blind and you do not see
You are contributing to the evil of this world
And that is as evil as can be
So take the time to change your mind about your fellow man
Take the charge of your thoughts and be kind
Help others all you can
Live your life in a non-judgemental way and you will know that love is out there
And it is yours
Just be kind and open the door
Live in kindness – always

 

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Filed under Poems G - I

Follow the path of the dove

I am floundering in a world that’s diverse
But the diversity is a mess
People hate each other even at their best
No one realises that they are the same
No one sees the similarities
It’s insane
It hurts my brain
I know religions and I study them all well
I follow none, on me; they do not cast their spell
But many are enchanted by their promises and their hopes
But I do not follow them; I see it worse than dope
And many do attack me, for my flimsy and secular ways
They think I don’t believe in god and that he creates
But I do, but I won’t name god and I won’t give him a sex
I do not know if they are male or female and I don’t know if our behaviour they even check
Do they care about our ways, whether we are good or if we’re bad?
Do they think there’s a code to life we must follow to be glad?
I don’t know and neither do you, so why do you follow texts?
Texts that are written by other men to control their nations via pretext
Oh I see the spell that you are under
I see it all too clear
But to tell you all, you won’t have it
At me you will snipe and jeer
Yet you will kill for your god and your ways
Though your texts they tell you don’t
You do so anyway because…?
You know not do you? You don’t!
So tell me why you’re so enchanted, when religion causes war?
When your own texts tell you not to and you do so because the law…
Why do you stand for murder when your beliefs are threatened so?
Why do you argue with your brother because he is different? Lo…
Can’t you see the mess you’re in? Can’t you see the spell?
Can’t you see it’s not just you, but other beliefs as well?
It is better not to label oneself, for the good of all mankind
It is better to live together in peace, be good and happy and kind
Keep away from the toxic faiths that turn you from other men
Turn away from those paths and then…
You will see such happy times, of peace and love and compassion
You will know then what heaven is, if you forget your violent passions
You cannot be a good spirit, if your heart is full of hate
You need to think another way, do not be afraid to cross that gate
I think you will see it is a blessed life, when you turn your hate into love
I think this is what you need to do to follow the path of the dove

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Loyalty, Vampires and Passion

I adore vampires, I am not sure if I’ve ever made that clear on here before (grins knowingly) and I’ve been thinking about them a lot today. I’ve been thinking about my favourite vampires, Judas Iscariot from Dracula 2000, John Carpenters VAMPIRES, Interview with the vampire and Daughter of Darkness to name but a few.
I love the culture surrounding vampires and everything Gothic, from the strange music options, to the fashion, the architecture and the darkness of it all, to the sheer sinfulness of loving it.
I love the strangest things and the strangest things inspire me to write and paint.
The strange haunting sounds of the music from Nox Arcana in their album Transylvania = visitors in the night, to their album shadow of the raven = the black cat wails and cries of a demon cat and the semi-Gregorian chants throughout all their albums.
I love the tribal belly dance scene, the gothic belly dancers from tribal fusion, I collect the DVDs regularly, I am a particular fan of Rachel Brice – to me, all of this just oozes vampire.
As a former belly dancer myself (not professionally) I am saddened that I didn’t learn about the tribal fusion style dancers until 2yrs after I gave up the dances, if I had known beforehand I think I would have sought them out and have become professional. I adore the dances and I would love someday to have a daughter who has the same interests in it as I do.
Unlike a lot of traditionalists, I don’t see belly dance as a thing solely for women, there is a form of belly dance for men! In fact it was traditional for both sexes to belly dance right up until the Persian Empire was created, then it was almost eradicated entirely for a practise for men and became a very sexualised dance solely for women by the Persian conquerors. The dance is debated to have originally come from the eastern side of Greece, near Salonica.
There is a dancer known as Prince Andrew which practises the masculine form, by belly dancing with a sword balanced on his naked waist and hips and balanced on his head. I find it very sexy, a very sensual dance. He looks almost like a character from Sinbad and the eye of the tiger; though his style is considered to be indo belly dance, a kind of traditional Indian style.
Here are a couple of videos with Prince Andrew dancing.
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?

q=male+belly+dancer+prince&&view=detail&mid=3920BBFA2116361685563920BBFA211636168556&rvsmid=D607C79DEB3A3D2D04ACD607C79DEB3A3D2D04AC&fsscr=0&FORM=VDFSRV
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?

q=male+belly+dancer+prince&&view=detail&mid=D607C79DEB3A3D2D04ACD607C79DEB3A3D2D04AC&rvsmid=D607C79DEB3A3D2D04ACD607C79DEB3A3D2D04AC&fsscr=0&FORM=VDFSRV

Masculine belly dance is starting to become popularised once again, there are more and more male dancers taking to the scene which I find rather exciting.
Another form of dance I like and think is very Gothic, is fire dancing.
I think vampires are very passionate beings, they put their heart and their soul into everything they do, they surround themselves with beautiful things, things they love, because eternity is a long time if you are around things you dislike or things that do not give you pleasure.
I think because they have eternity on their hands, they go out of their way to surround themselves with things that make them happy, collections from the past and even collecting newly sired people to be around them, of the nature that they like and connect with or that feel familiar to them. This is what I think happened to Lestat in Anne Rice’s vampire chronicles. I think Lestat was very nostalgic and may have seen something in Louis that attracted him to sire him, because he reminded him of someone he knew in his mortal life. Whether or not the relationship was compatible it didn’t matter to Lestat, he wanted familiarity and companionship and for a while he got it from Louis.
I feel very sad for Lestat, he seemed very alone. I think he and I would have got along very well together if he were real. I certainly would never leave his side; I am loyal to a fault with anyone I think is akin to me – not so loyal to those who are not akin to me however; being akin means more to me than being simply blood related, it is how our very essences match each other, how we connect, do we click? If not, then the relationship will be very short lived.
I consider myself to be a very passionate person. I am passionate about everything that I do and I seldom do anything that I am not passionate about. If I find it boring, I won’t do it, I will delegate – which is what I do even for my online games. I delegate the boring parts of the game to Paul, feeding my pets for example or setting them up for adoption for me. Some people call it being lazy; I call it, living my life to the fullest, and why not? Mortal lives are short anyway, there is no vampire going to sire me in this world. More is the pity.
That’s why I envelop myself with vampire mythology, vampire movies, haunting music, music boxes, pictures of wolves, bats and gothic castles around the house, thick wine coloured velvet curtains in the living room, old roses in the front garden with lilac and irises. Royal purple walls in the bedroom with a black carpet and red bedding. But not everything about my house is wonderfully gothic; unfortunately, there are a lot of places I need to decorate in order to eradicate the cold ice white walls my mother painted in most of the rooms downstairs. The brown sofa is a far cry from what I think is perfect, but it will do for the time being.
I have owl ornaments everywhere, a box filled with raven feathers, a raven feather silver necklace I wear on very special occasions. I miss the tiger’s eye ring my ex stole from me and the wolf fleece blanket with the midnight blue sky and full moon another ex-took from me. Yes I know, they are just things, but they were mine and I loved them. Especially the ring, that was special – my dad seldom could afford to give me anything with the money my mum would allow him, so anything he gave me was more precious than life’s blood, he gave me that ring, my ex stole it and that hurts.
It wasn’t all that particular ex stole, he stole an heirloom, the ring was an heirloom, he also stole my savings and unbeknownst to my mother at the time I had savings of £12,000 and when he dumped me I had less than £500 left.
It is this ex that made me dominant. After he hurt me and abused me in more ways than one, I became bitter against men in general for about six years, the boyfriends I had before Paul, were all submissive in the BDSM scene. Paul however wasn’t, but he wasn’t prepared to take me as a submissive, he reckoned he saw the true nature of me that was hidden because of abuse. I must admit that I had a lot of my gumption beaten out of me over the years before I met Paul. Since living with Paul the tolerance for other people negative behaviours towards me are at a minimum, boy have I got feisty since meeting Paul and he thinks this is a good thing.
I have a very low tolerance for anyone destroying my peace, destroying what I have accomplished since disowning my mother three years ago, I have a very short fuse for anything that upsets me. Learn what I like, learn my boundaries and we can be very good friends, solid in fact.
I have no qualms telling people that I demand a lot, I demand attention and the best, I demand love, I demand to be considered precious and above all, I demand loyalty not only for me, but my chosen family.
I consider my family as a pack, a clan, a tribe – very similar to how people view vampires, they have their little nest of individuals that stick together, I consider myself and the members of my house to be like this… a solid loyal unit.
I crave a large pack, whether fashioned together with a few like-minded friends or having children and teaching them loyalty and supportiveness of each other.
This is one the most unforgiving things I cannot stand about my mother. The bridges she burned when the family needed her the most, she’s a quitter. I’ve never been a quitter, but thanks to the bridges she burned not a lot of family wants to talk with me anymore, except for my father’s side of the family. They associate me as her little goon, because I was never allowed to leave her side right up until I was 27yrs old, I went everywhere with her, even missing school for home education to be with her, because she demanded it. As far as many relatives and friends were concerned I and my mother seemed close, too close, unnaturally close, so many believed we held the same values. In fact we’re total opposites.
My heart breaks day in and day out because of the family isolation I’ve endured because of her. When granddad was alive, I would be in regular contact of so many relatives, I was socialising at the weekends with the grandchildren of his cousins! Now that’s extensive family for you, what’s more is I was lucky enough as a child to have this happen on both sides of the family. My father’s side of the family are in regular contact with my grandmother’s siblings grandchildren! But again, because my mother isolates herself, she has therefore isolated me and my father from both sides of the family over the years.
I went from having approximately 15 to 20 visitors a week at the house, all different, all relatives, and having up to 18 people visit on Christmas Eve or Christmas Evening, to getting a visitor once a fortnight, the same one or two people and then only 6 for Christmas dinner, then down to just 5 for Christmas dinner and a visit from my brother and his girlfriend once a month.
I have a void that has not been filled since.
This is why I am in the scene, not the Gothic scene, but the BDSM scene. This is why I am so open-minded about open-relationships, I crave a large family and if I can’t make one through having children, then I intend to grow a large network and I think it is very unfair for anyone to try and deny me that.
I love vampires as they are eternally loyal and passionate.

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morning pages and progress

I have been feeling a little better about writing since I have been writing more often my morning pages on a website known as 750words.com

I had written 24 days in a row before becoming seriously ill with such a bad ear infection that I needed to go to A+E and was sent directly to the ENT department in Coventry and was given ear wicks; I was told that I came very close to being admitted in hospital and having to have antibiotics intravenously, the infection came on very quickly, I’ve never known an infection to react to my body so fast and it even went into my jaw and prevented me from eating solids for days.

Anyway, after 10 days of antibiotics I got back into my morning pages again, this time I have been doing them 7 days, I am confident that the inner writer/artist has reawaken, the desire to be creative has come back.  This is amazing because for the last three years I had thought I would never write much again, I lost interest in it, I didn’t enjoy it anymore, but now I look forward to waking up just so I can write.

Today I have written over 600 words without doing my morning pages to awaken me into the mood to write, which for me is a huge progress.

I have decided to take note of my previous post here and to do at least one post each day, even if it has nothing to do with a poem or story, just a little update about my life.  Because it is my duty to feed my fans the stuff they love.

I have chosen to start as from tomorrow, posting about my thoughts on various mythological creatures.  There will be at least one post per day henceforth, however, there may be more than one post per day, depends on what happens, but ultimately there will be at least one a day.

Thank you for staying loyal to my blog. 

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It’s not that I don’t love you 2

It’s not that I don’t love you
Your tenderness is true
It’s not that I don’t need you
Cause that’s further from the truth
But I need a space to grow
So that is why I go
But I want you
And I need you
But I cannot stay this way
Oh no, it isn’t fair
It’s me, I want to change
And when I’m with you, I’ll just stay the same
And goodness knows it isn’t fair, but I need to go somewhere
And if I stay, I don’t go anywhere at all
And if I stay, I cannot grow, I’ll only fall
But I love you that is the truth
Now let me go
Don’t keep me hanging around the door
So let me go
I don’t want to drown you anymore
So me be
So I can see
Where I’ll go
So let me go
I love you so

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It’s not that I don’t love you

It’s not that I don’t love you
It’s just that to love you there is pain
I cannot sit around just loving you when you drive me so insane
There is a limit to what I can accept and to accept what you do, I cannot
For loving you is a hard job, leaving you is not
Though I agree once we were great
But then the time grew on
You got more possessive of me
You held me far too strong
I was suffocating under your surveillance
I was stifled by your warm arms
Enraptured by your innocence, your tenderness and charms
You do me no good, only harm
So I left you

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curious mind of a growing author

Now, I am not in a frame of mind where I want to leave anyone right now – I am not depressed, I am not suicidal today, I am not hinting at any discomforts emotionally at all; yet despite this, today has been a day where poetically, I cannot help but write about relationships ending, leaving a former life etc. and this is just a fluke… or is it? Am I going through some kind of subconscious rebirth? Is this the start of a midlife crisis? I haven’t a clue, but currently I think I am very happy with the people who are in my life.
A lot of my poems are based on my past, particularly my childhood. But the ones I have written today are largely focusing on sexual relationships that are coming to a close, yet I am not in this situation – though I have been once. But the words in the poems would have been different surely? As I never left them, they didn’t leave me for the reasons I wrote about today, so where these poems came from is a mystery to me.
Another thing is I have written two poems today and both of those poems have a particular sentence in common “It’s not that I don’t love you”, now, I have had this said to me on many occasions before, when I was about to be dumped – the excuses that came after were varied.
Sometimes a writer can be in a frame of mind to write about something they have never experienced and usually I have been told that this is wrong – you should always write about what you know in order to sound authentic. So let me know if you think it sounds authentic enough for a person who has never experienced what I wrote about in the two poems I will post later in the week called “It’s not that I don’t love you” and “It’s not that I don’t love you 2”.
Thank you for reading

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Filed under About my work, My life

Dogs loyalty

To hold pure love you must hold a dog
A dog will love you more than you can ever know
Unconditionally, its life with you will flow
A friendship on tap
A blanket of warmth
A dog is there for you
The love, it will swarm
Show respect to your dog
And treat your dog well
It will help you through bad times, when things are just Hell
It will comfort you and keep your toes warm
Love your dog, it’s allegiance to you is sworn!

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Lies, truth and love

Locked in cold stone walls
Shut away and forgotten
Forbidden to live a life
By those who are mean and rotten
Lied about by your torturer
Hissed at by their friends
A mystery to others
Yet no one helps you mend
People accuse you of being the trouble
People accuse you of being bad
Yet nobody knows that the woman they love
Is evil and nasty and mad
Some have seen the truth, a glimpse
But unsure, they look on
And eventually I run away again
And hope that I can belong
But away I went and then there was more
Trouble and lies and hate
But the people who witness the things going on
Think it is I who has caused this fate
They won’t be told that someone they like
Have two sides to their personality
Instead they decide to add to my torment
Thinking they are defending their mother, naturally
But they don’t remember I am not the only one
She has kept in the dark and cold
I am one of three and she hates two
But the oldest one, he never knew
He won’t accept the truth
My father is lovely and it pains me to say
I might never get to see him again
Because she rules him, and he won’t come
To visit me and his grandson
Because she lies to all around, that she gives him a choice to come around
But she doesn’t you see, the truth is this
She would rant and she would spit
If he came knocking at my door
So until she dies, I’ll see him no more

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