Monthly Archives: September 2012

100WCGU Week #59 – The edge

 

When I was younger, I had a poster on my wall that said ‘If you’re not living on the edge you’re taking up too much space.’ It was a lie. It was a poster of who I wanted to be, not who I was. While those around me were experimenting with recreational drugs I was too scared even to try (I am glad of this, now). I never did a bungee jump, never even sky-dived. I’m not afraid of death, I just don’t want to take any chances. Here though, I feel safe. The universe holds me, and I breathe.

This week I gave myself a double challenge by attempting a free write version of the 100WCGU challenge. I wrote this in 15 minutes! Please bear this in mind when commenting 😉

Find out more about 100WCGU and read the other entries from this week by clicking on the link below.

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100WCGU week #58 – The apple

This week’s 100WCGU was to write a short story including the prompt …as the apple fell… making the story 104 words in total. Here’s my entry:

The apple
Lauren walked slowly along the deserted corridor, stopping to give the apple a polish. It was a bit silly really, ‘an apple for the teacher,’ but she thought he would appreciate the joke. She stopped just outside the room when she heard a familiar giggle. ‘Oh David, no… What about Lauren?’
‘What about her? She’s a nice girl, but Jemma… She’s a girl. It’s just a crush, she’ll grow out of it. I will keep tutoring her though, she needs all the help she can get if she’s…’
‘Oh, Lauren…’
As the apple fell from Lauren’s hand, all the colour drained from her face.

If you’re new here and wondering what 100WCGU is all about, click on the image below to find out more.

100 WCGU #57 – A routine evening

This week’s 100WCGU was to write a short story including the prompt …returning to the routine… making the story 104 words in total. Here’s my entry:

A routine evening
Samara had walked the perimeter of the room twice and turned the light on and off five times when Sayed walked in. He stood against the doorframe, a sly smile threatening to break his poker face. ‘Whatcha doin’ Sam?’ He used a sing-song voice, the kind one might use to talk to a small child. Frozen to the spot, Samara looked at her feet. ‘You know what I’m doing,’ she whispered. Sayed laughed ‘You’re weird,’ he threw at her as he left the room. Returning to the routine, Samara let a tear escape and once again started to walk the perimeter of her room.

If you’re new here and wondering what 100WCGU is all about, click on the image below to find out more. If you have an hour a week to spare and would like to support child literacy, you may be interested in helping out with the 100 word challenge for children. Find out more and get involved.

Giving thanks

Fountain

If I half close my eyes
And turn towards the sun
I can see rainbows between my eyelashes

A bird bathes in the fountain
Splashing sunlight around with his wings
It’s getting hot already
I think about diving in to join him

It’s too early
For the drunks who usually occupy this space
So we have it to ourselves, the boy and I

While he sleeps
I slip into the silence
And give thanks for days gone and those yet to come.

I see

The below poem was inspired by this article about the discrimination faced by a visually impaired photographer in today’s London Metro, by Channel 4 reporter Ned Boulting. Following early comments on this piece, I would like to clarify that I am not the photographer Ned refers to, I am writing as if I am – trying to put myself in his shoes.

I see
I might be visually impaired, but I can see
I see enough to know that you’re laughing at me
That you don’t see beyond my disability

Without even looking at my portfolio you judge me too quickly
Having seen none of my work you’ve already dismissed me
I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t good at what I do
I have as little time to waste as you do
I’m busy too

This week I’ve been capturing the spirit of the Paralympics
Recording our heroes in mid-action glory
I don’t just take a picture
I record images that tell the whole story

You only see
What you feel is missing in me

But who is it that sees more clearly?
Even when darkness cloaks the stadium
Leaving me almost blind
I still see your ignorance clearly
And yes, I do mind.

It’s been too long

It’s been far too long
Since I wrote you a poem
I’ll be back with more
But for now, will this one do?