Back Again

Leaving behind 
what at first was new 
but now more so worn 
and more so me 
beginning to be woven
with my history.


Back to the house
which has always 
been filled 
with memories 
with family 
it's odd to think
that this will take 
some getting used to 
for this is what
I always knew. 

Strawberry Childhood

So I was looking back through some of my poems (it was 3 in the morning and I had nothing else to do) and I realised a lot of my poems have similar themes.
Wanting a relationship
Growing older/ the future
What I was feeling that day
Occasional ones about nature
How small our lives are compared to the universe (deep shit there) 
Pretty much, I just got the feeling that a lot of them are very samey. But I suppose after writing over 300, it's hard to keep it 'fresh.'  I'll try think differently for the last month, but I sometimes don't realise how much I've repeated myself :') 

Red

strawberry 

I ate them all the time

thimble
Peter Pan
who never grew up 
green
the forest 
adventure 
childhood
Disney films
being given
an idea of life
by a cartoon.


Happy endings 
forever and done
the bad guy looses
all was rosy 
cosy 
simple and as easy
as those red strawberries.

Through the Forgetful Fog

Memories strain
against the brain 
trying to swipe through 
the forgetful fog 
straight past drinking 
something deeper instead 
I want to try and find my childhood
buried in my head 
strike the age of innocence 
and the ease of disbelief 
no conscious of self
bright colours and wonder 
at everything around 
and seeing everything as giants
with eyes so near the ground. 

The Peach to the Prune

The peach to the prune
the magnificent to the ruin 
the boy to the man 
and the girl to the gran.


We see the youth gain age
which can turn to rage 
maybe not quite wisdom
I wonder, what will I become?


From the petals of innocence 
with slow shuffling reluctance 
we gain more life, grow old 
and what comes exactly after that?


Well, 
it's a secret none of us have been told. 

When I Was Your Age

Think I mentioned my idea for this a few posts ago? I got it yesterday =]

But not writing a poem about it because the seems silly xD 

When I was your age

I wasn't like that, right? 

I was older when I did that

and that 

most definitely that

Or maybe they're not the ones

growing up too quickly

I am.

And as the technology increases

so does the ageing process

leaving us reeling 

and trying 

to keep a firm grasp 

on our own reality

and look back fondly

on the fantasy 

of when we were that age. 

Flashes From Childhood [and a thank you from the halfway point]

Dragons
Dalmatians

trying to see over a wall
or the car seat window 
excitement 
disbelief 
dandelion wishes 
imagination 
baths 
visits to the library 
books upon books
giggles 
shorts in autumn 
large chairs 
wide eyed stares
melted kitkats 
sand forts fighting 
the tide
flume in the pool
rapids outside
me
lost in my own world. 


PS - 23.06.11


So I just looked at my blog posts and I think this is number 182, meaning that I'm halfway through with this o.o I didn't think I'd get this far to be honest, I know most of the poems aren't amazing but I'm still quite proud for getting to this point. 

And I suppose this is kind of good poem for this fall on to (something I didn't plan) Moving from childhood innocence, to trying to capture the imagination once held so easily but now with an older mind. I don't know, I suppose I'm just trying to see the world through lots of different eyes so I don't get sick of the picture. This kind of helps for it makes it me think what can be a poem, what inspires me, what do people like...

Anyway,

I want to thank you, whether you're one of my friends, random internet stranger, bored browser, for reading this. I can't really believe how many countries have viewed this page! Thank you and I really hope you like at least one poem :') Feel free to stick around to see if I make it through the other half of the year. 

The Shed Instead of a Tree House

No picture today - thought who ever reads this poem should come up with their own picture =]


Nostalgia hidden in a shed
where so many memories
forgotten
walk forward
announcing their presence.


Many an hour spent in here
with magazines
or a book
the time made clear
by a carpet
covering the floor
now out of place
muddy, overloaded
with gardening tools.


The shelf, which seemed so high
when sat under
now not so much
sunlight creeping through
the cracks in the wood.


Cobwebs crowded by the
windowpane
where once was a toy
where stars appeared on the cheeks
when wet,
everything may be gone
but I hope I don't forget.