Tag Archives: poems

Writer losing her mojo

We all have heard the saying that “writers write as simple as that” and it is really is as simple as that, but most don’t actually do it as regularly as they should or at least believe they should.  For me, I do not write as much as I believe I should because in the last few years I have lost my mojo, I forgot what it meant for me to write and I have done a lot of soul searching in the past year to find out where the passion has gone.

I did something rare for me – I re-read a book, usually I don’t re-read books unless I put them into a reference category but this particular book I re-read and saw it with fresh eyes and read things I didn’t remember were in the book in the first place.  The name of the book was “Big Magic” written by Elizabeth Gilbert.  When I read this book I asked myself a question; “Why do I think I have lost my love for writing”?  It was a simple answer really upon reflection and I would never have gotten this answer if it wasn’t for this book.  My writing became too focused on financial panic, the urge to write as much as I can so I can earn a living because I needed to break out of debts, but instead, this kind of pressure halted everything about my creative mind and I found I couldn’t do anything other than dramatic self-pitying poetry on mass, the stories and the playtime died, literally.

For the word, nothing has been published except for the things that are published on this blog simply because I didn’t want to approach a publisher with such depressing poetical themes, because I still hold to the idea that I am primarily a fantasy and horror story writer, not a poet!  I am also an essayist I suppose, because I like writing and hoarding information I have learned about my favourite subjects, but I am not sure how to become a paid essay writer and I am not really going to approach that as a career until I learn more about it. 

Anyway – getting back to the main subject of this post.  I forgot how to play – yes, even in real life, I have forgotten how to play and to laugh because of my severe depression, breakdown and financial worries.  I became so down in the dumps about my life that I had two years of being carefully guarded by Paul my fiancé because I couldn’t be left alone for fear I’d commit suicide, seriously.  One point it got so bad, Paul had to go out somewhere without me and he needed to ask a neighbour to sit in with me.  To say I am over that now, would be wrong, the slightest thing brings it back, but I am not as bad as I used to be, the self-harming has stopped a little bit and I am more predictable these days; but ultimately, the depression is still there and I am trying hard to find out how to play again, how to feel happy again and how to enjoy life.  I don’t enjoy anything anymore and it is getting increasingly difficult since the doctor is now looking into what they believe to be a very serious neurological problem, either MS or motor neurone disease, but like always there is a long waiting list here in the UK and I won’t really know what’s going on with me for several months apparently.

So, how does one go about trying to find out how to be happy again and learn to play again?  It turns out according to the book “Big Magic” and a couple of other books I have read recently that it is something most adults get out of practise of, that once you start trying to become playful and do things which are generally playful (even if you don’t feel happy doing it or feel that it is playful) you will eventually trick your mind to becoming playful and you will build up a type of momentum.  Once the momentum is built up, you will start to feel a change – well I hope so.

I thought hard about how I write stories now in comparison to how I wrote them ten years ago, was there any notable differences in how I produced work back then than now?

Yes there was a huge fundamental difference in fact. 

A decade ago I wasn’t afraid to be thought of as eccentric or insane, I would play with my imagination and I would share my thoughts and ideas no matter how obscure and strange they were with people around me and then I would write about those ideas.  I used to have a lot more creative friends too, but many of them have creative careers which have made them too busy to socialise even online, some have died, some have decided that they too have lost their playful side and have become super conservative people.

I have also found that my social circle is smaller these days which is amazing because I used to think my social circle couldn’t get any smaller ten years ago, the people who I do talk to these days are very serious people who have a worried look on their faces whenever anybody talks about anything out of the ordinary, even if you were to explain that you are an artist and a writer so it’s not a mental health problem, it’s just my mind playing with ideas and therefore there is a story in this.  You’d be surprise how people like that can dry up your will to be imaginative or to share your ideas.

Some people who have very little imagination tell me that they wished they had more of an imagination and they start to tinker with my story ideas themselves (which I don’t mind) but then they start demanding that they must change my concept on my fantasy worlds because things are just not plausible and that readers are real people who live in the real world and they want something believable, so they start pulling at the threads of my fantasy infrastructure and start literally pulling my fantasy communities apart by the seams.  It turns out that even my perfect all powerful fantasy God is not infallible, that he has other beings that will cause problems he can’t deal with and that even this God ponders who created him and so forth.  I told the person, you are going too deep here buddy, I don’t want to go that way in my story, but they insist that I must.

I became a fantasy writer because I find the real world too boring and predictable for me to want to think about and write, the idea of making a fantasy based novel plausible, to me, is laughable, because fantasy is supposed to be anything BUT normal. 

To cut myself off from such people will almost completely isolate me again, which I don’t want.  But can I really sit through another conversation where my worlds are being shattered write before my eyes?  I often feel like screaming at the top of my voice “Of course this fantasy God has a creator you dumbass, it is me, I am their goddess, I made them, but I am not egotistical enough to put myself in the book as the all-power”, does any other writer go through this?  Or is this situation totally unique to me?

So I am currently on a journey to find “My tribe” as Elizabeth Gilbert puts it and to find my playful imaginative self again and to have the confidence and focus of not listening to those who are dismantling my worlds and to continue with what I had always planned instead.  Which is a shame because these people used to feed me ideas, used to support me, but these days it is just soul destroying.  I have to ignore the world destroyers.

I wanted to join a writers group, but not sure what is involved with those and I am scared to find more people who are like that, once they’ve heard my stories.  I am trying to forget the people who are making me focus on writing purely for financial reasons and try to focus once again on writing for me, for fun, for release and for pleasure; the way it should be for all writers.

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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

Witches cursing and besting each other

I stir the pot as you stir the pot

Curses and vexes galore

You stir the pot, so I stir the pot, I stir and stir some more

You make the pains, so I make the pains

We stir and stir some more

Witch against witch and bitch against bitch

Trying better than each other galore

Three times three, times three times three

We’re stirring and stirring some more

Never thinking of our convictions

The Hell we make for each other and what for?                                          

To prove each of us right, or each of us wrong

We stir and stir some more

Witch against witch and bitch against bitch

Trying better than before

I won’t stop and you won’t stop

So we stir and stir some more

Our lives change into darker things

Still we stir and stir some more

Our lives are fucked and our lives do suck

Yet we stir and stir some more

When do we stop, you whore?

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Filed under Poems V - Z

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

Daily goals as a lifestyle

I no longer want to be in the league of procrastinating artists and writers, things are going to change.

For the past three weeks I have been living my life on a goal based lifestyle, thanks to some very motivational videos I have found on YouTube and the book I purchased last month called “Think and grow rich” By Napolean Hill.  Now I don’t fool myself for one second that art and writing is going to make me “rich” at all, don’t get me wrong – I am not just focusing on the money aspect, I am focusing on the aspect of happiness and feeling like I am achieving something, even if the rewards are purely emotional.

Obviously money would be nice, but ultimately, health and personal achievements for me, leads to a happy life and that is more important to me right now than financial gain.

I have had these talks before on my blog, the “No longer procrastinating personal prep talks” and they have always reached a point of returning back to old comfortable habits with excuses after excuses after excuses – I am sick and tired of failing myself and I watched on one of these videos last week that when you reach a point of being sick and tired of being sick and tired that’s when your life will start to change and I have reached that point in my life.

Living life day to day with goal based intentions for every day, is working out for me.  On the nights I forget to give myself a goal for the next day, I notice I go back into old habits, so I am almost paranoid that the last thing I do before I go to sleep each night is to list my goals for the following day, so I don’t slip up again.

Most of my goals are simple and may seem like nothing to anybody – how much do you think you are going to achieve in a day by doing these things which in their eyes, could be procrastination anyway – but for me, it is constructive.  It keeps me doing the “good habits” which make me a productive person.

My usual day to day goals are;

To write my morning pages via a site called 750words.com – this is non-negotiable, this is a must do, everyday forever.

Revising at least two pages of my old NaNoWriMo attempt from 2016, this was abandoned and forgotten in my drawers since 30th November 2016.

Writing two poems for advanced schedule posting on my blog, I am a month in advance at the moment, so the poems you are currently reading were written approximately a month before you are actually reading them.

Practise some sketches and art pieces in my sketch book, at least half a page a day.

Then there is a fifth random goal, it could be anything, such as take a walk, do something particular in the garden, bake a cake, visit someone, anything really.

This isn’t all that I do in my day, this is part of my daily goals, the idea is to get me into the habit of having something to wake up for, something to do.  I lost my purpose in life by allowing sickness to dominate me, but now I am trying to take back some kind of control in my life again and so far it is working.   I would never have thought about living my life in a goal based day to day way, if it wasn’t for the motivational archive on YouTube.

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Filed under About my work

Suck it up for she writes again

Suck it up for she writes again

She writes it all so she can heal and mend

You can’t stop her, you must not

She needs to write and she can’t stop

You must let her drivel away at words

You should allow her to sound absurd

Because you don’t know what lies beneath

The truth of everything that hides in a sheath

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Filed under Poems S - U

New Category & A Stand!

I used to have several accounts on a website known as Blurty.com but I hadn’t been on that site for a long time, I wanted to go back to it this week and update it like I used to – I used to update the sites with general rubbish just to help me get things out of my brain, but also inform friends on my current mood and thoughts – particularly thoughts on current affairs and creatively playing with my own mind.

Alas, it seems blurty.com no longer exists, so I feel I have to find some other way in sharing those random thought processes. 

I tried to open a new account today on a website I never been to before called Live Journal, but I personally don’t think it’s for me.  So I think I will update anything I want to from this site.

If anyone has a problem with what I know to be true, get over it.  I state only facts in this blog when talking about my past, I have no reason to lie about anything that has happened to me and I will no longer be forced to feel ashamed to tell the world what I deem to be true!

The last paragraph is aimed at various relatives and friends of the family, because some people are upset that I have been honest about my upbringing, to the extent they have called me a liar and have threatened to take me to court for defamation.  Well they can try, I have spoken to a friend of mine recently who is a lawyer and they said that if I had evidence through social services of what went on as a child, the case would be thrown out of court in my favour.

So therefore, I no longer have anything to fear, as my parents very nearly lost me to social services when I was 12.

I want to be able to talk about anything I want in this blog, but obviously the main subject of the blog is creative fantasy, poems, stories, reviews, this is why I have created another category called Brain Drain and Dribble, so you know that this is purely what’s going on in my mind right now – it will contain flashbacks, memories, rants about current affairs, anything… this is in an effort to keep my blog active during blocks of time where I am not posting creative stuff.

Sit back and enjoy, this category will be dramatic and touch on sensitive subjects at times.

 

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Filed under Brain Drain & Dribbles

lessons missed

You were scared to release me into the world
You said that the world would have to watch out
Watch out for what? I am not a monster
You said you were doing me and the world a favour
What, keeping me from it?
I could never understand
I still don’t
You said I am too old to learn to like new flavours
But I am not
I still taste new things
I still yearn for more
Life is better in variety
Not shutting away from it and hiding behind the door
Like you
I like things that are new
I am not afraid of differences
I embrace them every day
In each and every way
Not like you
You hide
You tried to make me – like you
But I am not a fool
Not like you said I was
I am not a fool
But you are
You have lost almost everyone who wants you
You turn them away
Because they are not perfect in your narrow minded way
You can’t stand insubordination
But you don’t understand the extent of your domination
And you never will
You sit back and cry to others, blame me for making you ill
Yet it’s you
You’ve done this to you
With your mean, critical and bullying ways
You, who never tries to mend their ways
You even said
Why should I?
If I die alone, that’s how I die
With an attitude like that, no one can do anything but sigh
That’s why I left your life
You can be nice sometimes
But you are never tolerable unless someone is perfect
Stop trying to make people perfect
You’ll lose them that way
I’ve told you
But you don’t listen
You just get in a mood
So that’s why people have chosen, to forget you

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Filed under Poems J - L

A writer’s thoughts

I have read somewhere in the past, that you are what you read and I believe that. The more I read the more defined my tastes have become, my skills, my genre leanings and this influences my writing and art.
With each good book I learn how I want to write and what I want to write about.
With each bad book I read, I learn how I do not want to write and what I dislike.
I do not believe that as a writer you must write things outside of your comfort zone, I believe you should be comfortable with what you are writing – although on an emotional matter, that’s quite different. You must write outside of your emotional comfort zone if you wish to write fear, pain and heartbreak effectively, unfortunately that means opening up your old wounds.
A lot of the time, I like to write about horror, trauma etc. and each time I do, I open up real and old wounds, this is why I often become quiet as a writer and have prolonged periods of not writing, whilst I emotionally recuperate.
I was once told that writers and artists generally go mad after a time and I believe it, we send ourselves mad for our art and stories because we are constantly reliving the horrors of our past for your entertainment and as a collective, we seldom are known or recognized for it.
I am not moaning about my lack of recognition as a writer and artist, because personally I think that’s my own fault. I think I am generally a lazy person and have not bothered to find myself a publisher or to advertise my work very much over the years at all. On the one occasion I did contact a publisher to see whether or not they liked an idea of mine, I was lucky enough to get a letter back within three weeks, but this terrified me, because they loved what I sent them and praised me highly for it; I never contacted them again, I was worried about becoming famous and at the time I was young and didn’t know about pseudonyms.
These days I am more prepared for whatever life throws at me because I will be totally blatant about what I can and cannot do and what I will and will not allow.
Other than twitter, my blog and magazines are there any other steps I should take to get myself known?
Please comment below.

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Filed under About my work, My inspirations, My life

About certain poems

There have been some questions about the last poem, who was it written for and why was it so viciously portrayed?

I have to say this, the poem is purely fictional it is about an immortal war, something I’ve been working on as a series for a long time now; it is a goddess whose going through a hard time with her husband’s betrayal, he eventually turns against her entirety (her creations and realm) and sets her own creations against her, draining her of all her goodness and positive energy.  She eventually turns to her family for help against his reign of terror over her and her mortals, but the war becomes difficult as he gives immortal powers to various loyal followers and extends the godly problem into a huge battle that represents something similar to the idea of “the end of days”.

In this story she is demonized by her ex-husband and her mortals forget her as their mother creator and treat her as though she’s a demon etc.

I don’t think this story will be finished for a very long time yet, it’s quite an epic story, rather huge already and I think it could be split into six or seven volumes if a publisher has the patience to get through it, I know the words are already in excess of 250,000 and it’s only a third told so far.

A lot of my poems are based on this story as eventually the goddess is made mortal by her parents to protect her from direct battering from her ex-husbands random and unannounced visits; she lives as a mortal, not entirely sure if her memories are all real and if the spirits whose guiding her back to power are real either, she feels she’s insane and yet reluctant to actually seek psychological help.  She suffers in silence, wishing to go home, back as the goddess she was.

This is an idea I’ve had since I was 9yrs old; I’ve only started to think of it seriously as a novel/epic/series for about four years now.

 

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Filed under About my work