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.

Meant To Be

Penultimate poem. Holy shit.

It's written in books
it's said in shows 
that when you're young
you either know
exactly what you want
or not a clue at all,
but either way
the same thing is said 
life just happens
keep your head 
you can't control it all 
you might just have 
to wait and see
and usually what happens
is meant to be. 

An Ocean of Thought

I keep getting swept away
by tides of thought
one tugging me one way
while another crashes 
making my head sway.


Thoughts and faces
wash across my mind
and for a second or two 
I forget where I am
totally absorbed,
the waves of my mind
keep flowing 
with no sign of showing
pause or rest 
so it's the least I can do
to close my eyes 
let the thoughts take control
and swim through this ride. 

With The Moon

My mind is full
of dreams
of clouds
the sound of the wind
of friends
and family
the shadow of sin
none are ceasing
or releasing
me from their grasp
I try to sleep
but I am theirs to keep
and the rising stars
gently laugh.

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.  

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. 

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. 

Heart Skips With the Brain

how cute is the picture? Though not exactly what I was going for with poem.

My brain has a thought
and my heart jumps along
like a puppy on a lead
so just before
going to sleep
an idea or worry
springs to mind
and rather than be kind
and let me rest
my heart decides
to make itself heard
by knocking hard
against my chest.


So now of course
it's beating quick
and with that rolls forward
that certain gaze
and thoughts get covered
in a romantic haze
and all I want to do is sleep
but my brain
sets the heart up
ready to run
and the heart on it's own
pounding desperately
for someone. 

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. 

Doubt

Doubt is like a shadow
covering the sun 
like a stone thrown 
in to the tide
and sinking down 
down
down.


Doubt is a cold gust
echoing through the head
it's a punishing force
making you wish
you were someone else instead.


Doubt is the slow trickle
of realisation
that you barely trust
anyone
let alone yourself 

Being Young

Risking glances
taking chances 
heart beat rush 
not knowing enough
feeling too much 
drinking
thinking
of the future 
what is to come 
making friends 
looking
hoping
for the one
still like a child
but possibly
a little more wild
not wanting to grow up.

Life, Meaning, and Trying Not to Moan About It

In the grand scheme of everything
the universes, galaxies 
and account of all of history 
does my, one life, have meaning?


Most likely no.

But what about narrowing it down?
Starting at my feet on the ground
and revolving around
the people I care for 
and perhaps just stopping at
the people I've talked to
and they've remembered me. 


So then,
life and meaning doesn't seem 
as such a tragedy 
and really
it's about my friends and family
that's what means the world
to me. 

Beginning

oneword.com for title :) 
ps the picture is from a music video - This Love- Like A Million Lights.
The chorus has the word beginning in and I thought of it a lot when writing this. I love that song :')

Something new
we haven't really started yet
opportunities hidden 
we don't know what's coming 
but we have to move forward
to keep our story going 
our lives flowing 
because with every beginning
and every new chapter
we take a leap forward
never really knowing 
what will happen 
but hoping in the end 
it was worth it. 

At the Station

I'm in a funny state of mind
of when I get lost in the ways
of human kind
noticing habits 
then I skip a few steps 
and how soon that I forget
what I first saw
and instead I get lost in
not really our flaws
but more how we all act
under the skin,
really underneath everything
we are all just the same
trying to get through this game
the best we can
and all the while
trying to understand
what we're here for. 

Advice From My Room (Post 3 today)

Annddd finally, post 3, to make up for the lack of a poem on what will be the 1st of January 2012. This poem is piecing together phrases from looking around my room. 
Yeah.... I really need to do some actual work today. 

Colour 
bold
love etc.
true match
like this
keep it unreal 
fresh
beauty
get involved 
keep in touch 
know your limits 
along for the ride
independent 
never shout never 
we are story tellers. 

Recording Eyes

I wish knit together 
all the views I see 
put them in to a film
so I can look back
at my whole life history. 


There would be blue skies 
and of course grey 
there would be every single one
of all of my holidays
there would be water 
in the lens at times 
for when I've gotten sad 
and there may be slight tremors
for those times when I've been mad.


But the most important thing
would be that is all there
I would have all my memories 
and watching them would be like
breathing in a second, filling, air.

A Good Mood

It sounds a bit stupid but being in a good mood, feels very good :')

Smiling 
at everything
a song on shuffle 
streak of sunshine
architecture 
a fountain display 
rainbows in the water
babies 
teacups spinning around
despite being in the middle
of a town 
well, make that a city
where I suddenly began to notice
just how pretty 
it call can be 
and that I'm here 
belonging 
with a smile and me.  

Brushing Past

We brush past one another 
separate colours 
spreading on the canvas 
we should mix more 
see the bigger picture 
see how we connect 
and make sure that our time
is well spent 
and painted bright 
rather than just 
in black and white.