Video Blogging

Long time, no speak!

So, you may or may not have seen a link I put on here a while ago linking to a new blog project I had. Sadly, second year completely overwhelmed me and I didn't get very far with it. However, I am now trying out the YouTube scene. Vlogging, video blogging, YouTubing - pick a verb of your choice. I'm really enjoying doing it and am hoping to get content going more regularly once uni work gets a bit less hectic.

If you would like to see my channel (and maybe subscribe, if you really like) you can just click here
It would be me much appreciated! 

I feel awful for not posting on my other blog much but time has just escaped me.
Blimey, is this what growing old feels like? If you do want me to do more writing, leave a comment and I will honestly do my best to get some more writing done. But definitely after exams, I've got about three weeks of deadline craziness coming up.

Much love for reading this
x 

Here Went Something

The title? Well my first post in 2011 was called Here Goes Nothing, thought I'd work with that rather than just call it the end. That seemed a slightly shitty title, not to mention it sounds a pinch depressing. But on to more important matters. 

Well, this is it, the conclusion I promised. After this, I have most certainly posted on my blog every day for a year, it started on the 1st and it ends on the 1st. What do I say? I'll just start typing and hopefully in amongst all my mumblings, some form of decent sense of ending will occur. 


Writing a poem every day for a year, it wasn't easy. Especially because what I was writing, I didn't think was very good and occasionally I felt I was wasting my time. But I carried on, probably because of stubborness and wanting to prove I could do it more than anything. And I think by writing these poems, it forced me to think so much more about what I was seeing. It allowed me to look around the world and try and get inspiration from anything. That kind of thought process in fact led to my first tattoo, I wanted to get something to remember what that felt like. To be open minded and wide eyed, wanting to soak in as much as I could from life.

I think I've always liked the occasional moment where you just sit back and let the world take over. Looking through a window and watching the clouds, walking along the street and listening to conversations, wondering about other people and their lives and how you have no idea who they are or what they'll do except in that brief second of conversation. And train rides. I love train rides. You get to really absorb scenery and catch glimpses of lives which have nothing to do with you. It makes you think one of two things 
1. In the bigger picture that makes up the universe we are barely a speck. 
2. How important your own world is - well, what makes up your own world.

I've tried to express this way of thinking in my poems, not to force other people to think the same, but just to try and show what I'm like. I'm sure other people have the same sort of thoughts.  I'm 18 - I do know that other people understand me and most likely feely the same. (just thinking of the whole stereotype teenager of nobody understands me and my individuality, blah blah blah)

Jesus, this is is a lot of writing. Oh well, it's the last blog post, I think I'm allowed to indulge myself a bit. I'm trying to think what else I want to say. Well, I said it yesterday but thank you so much for reading this. You're a wonderful (and patient) person :') 


It's a relief and kind of sad to have finished. I'm quite proud of myself for sticking with it. I hope that when I'm older, I continue to write because I can't remember a time when I haven't loved it. I did this because I wanted to become a more creative person, I'm not sure if I am but I am definitely a more inspired person. 

My Own Story (The Last Poem)

So, this is it, the last poem of 2011. I'm sat here listening to The Kooks - Naive, which for some reason feels appropriate. As I said a month or so ago, I will be posting a proper conclusion on January 1st - without a poem - this is because I wrote an introduction saying what I would do this year, also without a poem. I thought this made it seem more full circle. 
And for those who think I've cheated and missed out on two poems, I posted two extra in November, just to be thorough.

I would love to be able to tell you that I have been thinking about this poem for months and have perfected what you're about to read. But I haven't. In fact, I'm still not too sure what I'm going to write about. 


Sad as it may make me appear, I actually feel a bit emotional that this is the last one. I'll stop blabbing on, you get my emotional mush of  a summary tomorrow. Something for you to look forward to in 2012 - the year the world ends apparently. But I will say here, that thank you to any one who has read this. Anyone who has looked at this blog in the past year, even if you're not reading now and will never know how grateful I am that people took some time to read this.

Here we go, the last poem. It will look as if I just started typing whatever, technology can't show my thinking process but rest assured, I'm going to think and come back to it. This is important. 

Picture is not meant to be arrogant, I just thought since it was poem about me, this was probably the best image to have. 

It could be said there is a poem 
for pretty much everything
from a sonnet for your heart to sing
to a limerick of Ireland 
and a man called Jim. 


I have tried all this year to write 
with maybe not all the words I know
they're mostly simple, but I wanted to show
what my world is like
maybe not fabulously, but it's so so. 


My world is ordinary, this I know 
and most would be likely to agree 
it's friends, esteem, education and family 
but I have tried to notice 
that what makes it extraordinary. 


The sunlit glow of a grey street
wondering about the stories 
of strangers we meet 
and memories that we all wish to keep.

Comfortable silences 
what it feels like to be kissed 
to be young 
and with people you love 
the simple pleasure 
of smiling on a sunny day 
thinking of the future 
of growing older 
thinking of childhood 
what could, would, should
of been
and still always remembering 
to be in the now.

We all know that 
there are counted days
and counted words
but I suppose what I've learnt 
is not to drown in it all 
but absorb and live,
maybe not be a focus of the world
but to have my own
to make it compelling
to have my own story 
that is worth telling.

Here and There

The feeling that this is fleeting 
we're only meeting 
for barely any time 
and it feels as if
almost as soon as 
I've finished this rhyme 
we shall soon be on our way again.


For now our lives here are back
to what they once were
but the striking difference 
is that we all have a separate lives
we all have a there
and there will never be whole here
our worlds beginning to part 
and the scary thing is
that this is just the start. 

A Story To Tell

It's the final count down, doooo dooo do do do do (just youtube that song)
Ten more poems to go and then I'm done. I don't think it's really sunk in yet that I'm nearly finished. 

When you find your thoughts
beyond yourself 
when they become more focused 
on everybody else, 
you realise 
that we all have our own stories 
(well, of course we do)
but it's how we tell 
and how create 
that can make our stories
something great.


Perhaps mine won't be 
known all around
but it's more so about 
keeping my feet on the ground,
remembering there are others
there's everyone else 
who's stories may be kept on a shelf
but it's the characters
and the people
who read it and care
they are what's important,
the people whom which 
we chose to share.  

Lack of Sleep in the Morning

The bed calls like a lover 
wanting you to stay,
clinging to the sheets
whispering
that you need to be
with one another.


Your head on the pillow
heavy as led 
your sheets embracing you 
this is our time 
get up later
stay here instead. 


The cold air circles menacingly 
from the other side of the room
and with it a comes 
a sense of doom
that you have to soon rise
and leave your warm nest 
you're running late
and you need to get dressed. 

Overlapping Friends

We all easily fall
back in to place
a smile seems to be stuck
right on my face,
for here we are
as we were then 
as if we never left 
friends were made 
when we were away
but now we're back again 
we overlap
just have a chat 
we're just us
no fuss
all content
with our time well spent. 

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. 

What Feels Like Home

What feels like home
is hard to describe
without the use of clichés 
something that causes 
a nauseating response 
of hearing something
that's pretty much a replay.


Yes 
we know
home is not a building 
it's more so a heart 
and that feeling
of being a part 
of something.


For me
I would say
it's a warm feeling 
close to your chest 
that makes you feel 
protected from the rest
of the world 
and I will feel as safe
as I did 
when I simply just 
a little girl. 

Bonding

It's not so much 

what we do
but what we say
as our lives
slowly become
more interlaced 
we become 
comfortable
open 
we never stopped
being ourselves
but now we become 
them more 
and really
I don't think I need
to ask for much more. 

Going Home

No picture since I don't particularly like the idea of posting a picture of my house on here. Any other wouldn't be right. 


Ready to go home 
not because
I'm in a bad place
I just need the break
to sink back in to the
arms of family
in to routine
which now seems
like such a luxury,
back to the places
and faces
I know so well,
back to home. 

A Winter Night In

Paper snowflakes
and hot cups of tea 
frost clinging 
to the branches of trees 
cosy and warm
while the wind pounds
the glass with it's cold fist
what I want
is just this 
the Christmas spirit sinking in 
while outside all is cold
and I'm just wrapped up,
looking out on the world. 

Career

Realising what you want to do
when you're older
is something that strikes deep
it's ambition and passion
something burning,
which I wish to keep
the desire for a job
an actual career 
I have the idea
right here
and I'm going to work
as hard as I can
until it's not just an idea
but my actual career.

(Yeah I repeated a rhyme. Shut up.) 

Talking About Music and Then a Poem

So yesterday I interviewed the band, Twin Atlantic. They were absolutely lovely. I then went to watch the gig at one of my favourite venues, seeing them live was incredible, it made me realise how much I've missed live music ( as well as the fact they're a very good band) 
Being part of the crowd, being part of something that goes beyond you, every one's connected by the music. It just really sparked off why I'm so interested in music journalism. Music in general really.
It's just ... an experience that you wouldn't really be able to get through anything else, I think. I know this blog is meant for poetry and I will try and sum up all this babbling in the form of a poem. I just needed somewhere to throw all this sudden realisation at how much I love going to gigs, finding bands, listening to music. If I get to do this sort of thing as a job? Just . . . wow. I don't thing there's good enough adjective to say how incredible that would be. 

Here Is Where I Want To Stay

Ears ringing

while the band is singing 
a sweaty face
and sticky floor 
drunken lads
and feet which are sore


But there is so much more
to this
the music
and the band
for where I stand 
here we all are
we're nearly all one 
connected by something
that's kind of hard to place
perhaps the word is passion
I'm not really sure,
but here is where I want to stay. 

Feeling Words

Perhaps the best of time
can't really be described 
like this, just with rhyme 
and weak words
for feelings are so much more 
and these things
can't do justice
they can try and describe
but not really
feel anything themselves. 

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.

What Makes the World Go Round

Money 
so we earn
and we keep
a living.


Forces 
the earth rotates 
in space 
it doesn't really
concern itself
with the human race.


Time will keep turning
as will the earth
we'll have to keep earning
to try keep our place. 

Holding on to a Smile

So it's December, a mince pince has been consumed as well as my the first chocolate in my advent calendar. Things are going to get rather merry around here, I imagine. But as well as counting down to Christmas it is also the count down to the end of the poem every day for a year o.o I don't know what to say that hasn't been said - you know the usual can't believe I've actually (nearly) done it, people read it (not that many but still some) how it'll be a relief to of finished, you get the idea. 
Well, for want of a better phrase, it's the beginning of the end. 
Though, in a less dramatic sense, I am thinking of starting a new blog at some point but more so for journalism reasons. 

It may not be
easy
to be always
happy.


It may not be
easy
to be always 
me.

They say
that life is hard 
I would say
that applies
to some
rather than others.


Where I am now
it's pretty good 
I think I'm acting
how I should

I don't need to try
to smile 
it just happens 
but mean while 
I hope others
who find it hard
can find something
to hold on to. 

Carrying a Work Load

The feeling of work
crawls along back
sniggers at the brain
the body feels slack.


Words are running
all around my head
and I'm painfully reminded 
of when I can't sleep in bed


There's too much
and not enough
time
but the awful thing is
that really
this work load of mine
is much less than some
but still feel
overcome. 


I need to think clearly
see myself where I am,
where I stand
and see to next week
when I'll be done
but I'm just stuck
here,
and I feel so slow
so slow and dumb. 

Copy Write

When writing
it's inviting 
to take lines from others 
maybe for ease
but more so 
because what they've written 
fits exactly what I think
but in such an eloquent way
making anything I try
nothing much
not really even okay.


If one day 
I could reach the point
of admiration 
of people wanting 
to use my words 
well,
I can't find any 
at the moment
but it would be
magical.