Tag Archives: fun

Writers block – new challenges – Occily Diddily

I know it has been a ridiculously long time since I last posted anything, unfortunately, although I have dozens of ideas, not one is making it to paper.  Writers block has hit in the past, but usually wears off eventually, and I’m hoping that this does.  But whilst this door is temporarily closed, it seems a new one has opened as I’m starting learning to compose music.  Haven’t progressed beyond simple little tunes yet, but  wanted to share one of my favourites so this site wasn’t completely dead.  I hope to return to poetry one day, and as soon as I do, it will be up here.

As always, please let me know what you think in the comments here or on YouTube, and feel free to share it with people if you wish.  I’m still learning (both the instrument and composition) though, so advice is appreciated!

 

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Life’s Little Adventures

I went to the zoo on Sunday with some friends, which was a pretty great day.  Having mentioned the fact that I high-fived a monkey to a few of my friends a few times, I was mulling over a related rhyme which finally blossomed in to a poem during the music/poetry session I was at this evening (Monday).  That brilliant one over in Abingdon.  I also got to feed Rainbow Lorikeets, there’s a picture at the bottom.

 

All of the adventures are true.  Enjoy and let me know what you think below!

 

Life’s Little Adventures
I once high-fived a tamarin,
And then I shook its paw.
Before the keeper told me off,
For having a finger near the door.
 
I once got locked in Regent’s Park,
And had to climb the fence.
Topped with great big metal spikes,
It got somewhat intense.
 
I once removed a jet engine,
And with my best friend took it apart.
We did put it all back again,
But I’ve no idea if it will start.
 
I once leapt from the top of my uni,
And abseiled down the towers.
Dressed as Bonnie Charlie’s Life Guard,
Having just defended the uni for 36-hours.
 
I once tried to outrun the inbound tide,
And sprint through the gap between wall and sea.
But I was too slow as the waves raced in,
To soak almost all of me.
 
I once went to an open mic session,
And had no idea what lay in store.
Where so many styles and talents co-exist,
Each week I come back for more.
13/05/2013

 

Feeding Rainbow Lorikeets

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Nothing’s Going to Stop Us

I’ve not dared look how long it has been since I posted something new here.  Partly because that is also how long I’ve had writers block for, in spite of my best efforts to break it, partly because I know it has been far too long (and a friend told me off).

 

Recently two of my friends, Tom and Welsh Dave joined me in a trip to our usual stomping grounds for a walk following a bit of snow.  In light of the fact that other friends who lived nearer to there assured us that the roads were clear and it would be fine…let us just say it was slightly more challenging than usual.  But we didn’t give up!  No challenge that we faced beat us.  Choosing to skip one of our diversions on the ground that it would be too dangerous doesn’t count as a failure as we’d agreed in advance that we’d skip that part.  In advance being once we got to the car park… This poem was finally set to paper at the open mic night I attended, mostly because the other poet present had forgotten all of their work and so was writing something new and I felt that it was only fitting I do something new too.

 

Anyway, enjoy and I shall try my best to keep the scribblings coming!

 

Nothing’s Going to Stop Us
Nothing’s going to stop us,
We’ve made it here through floods and slush,
Though the car had to be pushed in to place.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
The (almost) mountain we must ascend,
Along paths buried in snow and molehills.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Not even my shoe splitting after a mile,
Just bandage it up and press ever on.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Though we may skip some extras,
Leave the track up the valley wall undisturbed.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Even when the river replaces the path,
We’ll just find a way around or through.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
But the lack of tea gave us pause,
The tearooms are shuttered already.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Now we must face it all again,
To return down the vale to our homes.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
The path has vanished ‘neath the floods,
And the mountain stands beside it.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
A sheer rock face we’ll traverse,
Clinging to the mud, roots and grass.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Even a slip in to snow melt,
Pressing on towards our goal.
 
Nothing at all stopped us,
Floods, snow, mud, slush or downpours,
We made it all the way.
28/01/2013

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Summer Camp Activities – the active poems

I meant to set these up to auto post whilst I was at camp…and as usual, I forgot.  Partly because the day I was going to do it, was the day I had my road trip companions arriving and I was still packing for camp whilst trying to rearrange my apartment to accommodate sleeping places for three people.  It was done, although one of them was highly dubious about my ability to fit in the armchairs to sleep, and even after she saw me sleeping there, refused to believe I was actually comfortable.

The next few sets are poems I wrote about the activities we do at camp.  In my last year as a camper, our Press Room assignment was to produce some material for the camp magazine.  So I used the time to write a series of rhymes, which I’m going to share over the next couple of posts.  Enjoy!

Field Sports
Rounders, footie, netball too,
So many different things to do.
Watch the pancakes slip you up,
Landing in a pile of muck!
2004
Sailing
We all went sailing,
Out on the lake.
‘Round and ’round in circles,
We’re not the next Drakes.
 
Capsized in drill,
Sent Lauren under.
Landed on her as I jumped,
So is it any wonder?
 
The wake from the gondolas.
Set us rocking madly.
Nearly tipped us overboard,
But not quite, gladly!
 
The sailing crew got us all back,
Safe, if not quite dry.
And though we might not sail the globe,
At least we’ve had a try.
2004
Hillwalking (to the tune of ‘The Grand Old Duke of York)
Oh the grand young Mr Smith,
He took two dorms, some staff.
He marched them up to the top of a hill,
And he marched them down again.
They went up again and again,
Then back down a few more times.
And when they thought they’d never reach the crown,
They found they’d got to town.
2004

Towards the seaThe view from the top of The Old Man of Coniston – yesterday’s hillwalk

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Mouse in the Workshop

Must admit I’m a bit down this evening as I heard at lunch time that my favourite author – Anne McCaffrey – had passed away this last Monday.  Some of my friends and I are keen readers of her books, when we founded the Storytelling Society at uni, we even nicknamed it the Harper Hall from her Pern series.  The literary world has lost one of the best sci-fi and fantasy authors of the past century and she is and will be missed.  I’m still polishing a piece for her which I will post one day.

 

In happier news, I’ve been asked to submit some work to be considered for inclusion in an anthology next year…watch this space!

 

 

I have to thank the lovely organisers of the Poets Rally over at the Poetry Palace for offering me this award.  There are some brilliant and out and out amazing poets in the Rally who are well worth checking out.

As for my acceptance, this was inspired by the tale of my boss who has had a mouse in her workshop at home for the past few weeks.  Enjoy!

 

Mouse in the Workshop
There’s a mouse in the workshop,
Nibbling at the chicken feed.
Pooping in the dog bedding,
Daren’t think where he may’ve peed.
 
There’s a mouse in the workshop,
It’s high time that he got out.
Clearing and cleaning from wall to wall,
Finding signs he’s still about.
 
There’s a mouse in my left wellie boot,
Bright-eyed quivering, so tiny and sweet.
But he’s gone and chewed my favourite sock,
To make his nest so snug and neat.
 
There’s a mouse in my left wellie boot,
It and he went for a walk down the road.
No harm has befallen the little guy,
But my wellie returned sans its load.
 
There’s a mouse in the workshop,
A week later, could it be the same?
Going to keep checking my wellies,
Ready to evict him all over again.
22/11/2011

 

I’m nominating Inside Hema’s Den for the next award (who also won it this week, but I really loved her entry).

 

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