Iced Air

I like to taste each drop of iced air trickling down my throat,

Savour all the melodies carried in on the ancient wind.

I like to wish the coolness into my skin,

Feel the textures coursing through my pumping, purple veins.

I like to feel my heart beating against my heavy lungs,

As a sluggish second lengthens,

And I let go of the breath I took from the sky

Pouring them back into the silky breeze.

I like to enjoy how it feels to breathe.

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Catch the Tangles

Billowed darkness emptying itself in sheets of steely rain
She caught up with the moment so her head could catch the tangles
But still she whirled away because the stutter of the weather
Metronomed into her brain
The window trapped the swirling iron clouds but still,
It held reflections of the flick’ring spineless suns that bathed her empty coffee shops
In whiskey light just after dark.
She tapped a rhythm on the glass that caught up with the dancing drops
To let her fingers flutter aimlessly upon the cold pane with the hot rain
A quick, erratic pace that halted at the jagged edges of the seam
The crack, the tear in double-glazing that had ripped all time and space
It seemed.
Her hasty heart pumped her limp arm into a rippling blow
Sending shards of spinning rainbows waltzing under drips and drops more than three-four
And letting in a waterfall
That entered drop by faithful drop
Til laying in a pile of fractured light and fallen stars she learnt to sleep
By just feeling the thumping of a bright-red beating heart
And drinking up the static air that whispers through our lungs
She felt a drop of slow, soft, silver rain before the tranquil curved her mind
Stillness tasted much more sweet, memory and thought left far behind.

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Where I’m Meant to Be

“I’m not lost”
The pocket with his keys in has viscosity
Its heaviness incalculable, metal leaking through the fabric of his jeans
He lives as a link in clanking chains
Slumping boys with rucksacks known for breaking backs
The never-ending train that runs the twisted tracks
“I’m not lost, I’m just on my way”

Smoking chimneys pump the sky with lead
Leading troops of teens with ego, pride and gall crowning their heads
But goal in mind, he trudges through the sludge
Of melted keys and dreams running in silky streams
Bronze and silver intertwined with whites and creams

“I’m not lost”
He lifts his foot to tread in faded footprints
Misses, falls onto his face and into beer and breathless kisses
He lives as a worthless waste of space
Or so he thinks, in between hangovers and cheap drinks
His tired boat overturns and slowly sinks
“I’m not lost, I’m just out of place”

With salted bones he drags himself to shore
Weakened and overcome he now knows what he’s looking for
The man that stands dusts off his knees
To join the journey of the long and solemn train
And feels his rusty heart groan into life again

“I’m not lost”
He hears the tinkling laugh of jangling keys
Takes one hand from his heart to reach between the shredded seams
To his surprise it fits the lock so perfectly
And there open the gates to somewhere fresh and blue
The man prepares to greet the ones the boy once knew
For then he felt the leaded clouds dissolve and sun break through
“I’m not lost, I’m where I’m meant to be”

Based off the prompt: “There are only two stories: A Boy Leaves Home / A Stranger Comes To Town”
Prompt Credit goes to poetry podcast Destination: Detour on YouTube

I haven’t posted in a while, stupid real life has got in the way of my writing, but I’m feeling funky and fresh and up for some real all-nighters when it comes to my poetry right about now. I’m really happy to be able to post something for everyone today, so just saying that I’ll be getting back to posting regular poems right about now. I mean, I’ll slow down again when it gets around to my January mocks, but that’s far far away for now.

Happy writing! ^_^

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My Boat Rocks

My boat rocks.

Coarse and rough oceans shake the tides,

Saltwater slamming into the sides of the creaking, tearing vessel,

Its threat to tumble me into the stormy blue,

My boat rocks.

Winds churn the writhing waves,

The drops of frosty rain stream down the aching, ever-rotting wood,

And my hands clamp to the sides, white-knuckled,

My boat rocks.

Roaring into the echoing hollows of my new bones,

Here the heart beats its fastest,

A stomach-flipping twist to scrape my nails across the sea.

My boat rocks.

As the sea rips cold fingers from splinters,

The clouds are slit by rays of gold sunshine,

Buttery light glistening on warm waters,

My boat rocks.

A cloud above me, reflected below,

Boards beneath my back that let the water lap,

At the sides of a boat that rocks gently.

 

My boat rocks.

But it can’t drown me.

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Luna, Stella, Sol

When Sol began to shiver, breathing thin and cold

She felt the wrinkles of the day becoming old

And with her fingers cast a glittered, cobwebbed spell

To let her saffron light disperse to vivid gold

 

As Stella clawed the fabric of the fading light

Be-honeyed Sol was sinking into warm twilight

And Luna donned her calla lily dress, and rose

The dance of three that brings the day to cold midnight

 

So Luna laid her lips upon the dusky sky

And with her breath painted the world with dark blue dye

Then Stella made the sparkling pinpricks in the dark

Each one a tiny spark, a lonely world on high

 

And so the night embraced the weak and fragile earth

Our saviour, Luna, holds the lives that we are worth

And Stella gives us time by sewing in her stars

For Sol to now prepare herself for her rebirth

 

And Sol reached up and made the inky sky fluoresce

Luna untied her phosphorescent, pearly dress

Stella tore down and ripped apart the ebon sky

She let her stars scatter – a warm and twinkling mess

 

Our Sol displayed her beauty and she lit our world

Her eyes were stunning and her amber hair was curled

She stole away the lives from Lady Luna’s grasp

And up into the sky our lovely Sol was hurled.

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Thin, Pallid Skin

A cold stone weighed down his chest.

With rattling, trembling lungs

He whimpered out his last few breaths.

Through his thin, pallid skin a heart beat slow.

Each thump shattered the earthbound rock.

His soul wrenched itself from its chains,

Leaping into the heavens, but

Dissolving in the burning acid rain,

Leaving a fragile shell

That crumbled into sand;

The sand that fills the unforgiving deserts

across which warm feet walk.

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To Vivid Night

She woke up to a single glowing sun.
The tightened bounds of sleep became undone.
Her steps that fell towards the Earth were young.
The dew of life so sweet on her dry tongue.

She stumbled into something like a walk,
To write a name in pastel-coloured chalk.
If it was hers, she didn’t know or mind:
It was the only name that she could find.

Her feet had swung themselves into a sprint.
Her eyes had gained a subtle, honest glint.
Excitement lit her throbbing veins in red.
The falls she felt were only in her head.

And knowing she was low she let him in.
Her eyes were dry, her patience wearing thin.
If nothing else, he was a hand to hold,
Until she found that soul gleaming in gold.

She let herself bring others to the fight.
With all her love she pushed them to the light.
She helped them write their names in dusty chalk,
And brought them to their feet to let them walk.

The others slowly left her one by one;
Each loving daughter, then each caring son.
The sunlit sky began to fade to grey;
A twilight in between the night and day.

The sun and skies had watched her spirit drain.
Somehow, she knew she was alone again.
Her wistful, honest eyes were shining bright,
But soon her day would turn to vivid night.

She settled by a single setting sun,
And watched, and smiled until the day was done.
The soul that leapt into the skies was young,
Her last sweet breath now silent on her tongue.

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The Poet’s “I Love You”

A golden bee played background music to her thoughtful sighs,
Her gaze attached to hummingbirds and silky butterflies.
The Poet leant himself against the sunlit, cloudless sky,
And it was then he felt an urge to send her a reply.
He hitched a ride upon a wing and bid the sun goodbye.

The ground that touched his feet was carpeted in emerald green.
The trees surrounded, bending inwards, stately and serene.
Her eyes bejeweled her honest face; the Poet took her hand,
He said “I’ll show you what we see, and then you’ll understand.”
And soon she saw the trueness and the beauty of the land.

He pulled her by her fingertips to sit amongst the wings.
“Today I’ll tell of magic, beauty, all those precious things.
Tonight, I’ll tell of scars that decorate my very soul;
The scars and magic braided shape a love I can’t control,
For love, it fuels our hearts and love, it also takes its toll.”

To tell of magic first he let himself fall through the skies,
She curled herself around him and he stared into her eyes.
The scars that scratched his spirit worked themselves onto his face;
She saw the inner poet as the gashes took their place.
They intertwined their fingers as they sunk through starlit space.

He told her then of beauty in the only way he knew:
The lightest kiss on perfect lips, her cheeks a rosy hue.
The softened, grassy landing sparkled with the morning dew,
And through the vivid silence came the Poet’s “I love you.”

Author Notes

Poem written in direct response to this poem, which was the prompt:

she was alone, all alone
enjoying a calm summer day
when suddenly an innocent question
teased her mind,
“I wonder how a poet feels
When he is madly in love
And how would he seeks
A beloved, who from he couldn’t get enough”
-Julunar

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The Liebster Blog Award!

I’ve been lucky enough to be nominated for the Liebster blog award by bookinspire33 on her lovely blog Drifting Pages! I’m really happy that someone liked my blog enough to do this for me! Edit: I’ve now also been nominated by Anirudh Murali on his blog It’s My Ink Blog! Thank you so much, but I’m only going to answer one set of questions as two sets might make for a long and boring blog post (which this already is by this point!)

The Liebster blog award is a different type of blog award: it is only for blogs with under 300 followers, and there are a set of rules you have to follow. Its purpose is to spread the word about these blogs so they get more people coming to see their posts. I think it seems like a great idea to let lesser known blogs shine ^_^

Here are the rules:

  • List 11 facts about yourself
  • Answer the 11 questions asked by whoever nominated you
  • Ask 11 new questions to 9 bloggers with less than 300 followers. (You can’t re-nominate the blog that nominated you)
  • Go to their blog and tell them that they have been nominated

It seems simple enough, so I better get started!

11 facts about me

1) I’ve been in a steady relationship for two years. And, I know this might not seem very impressive to a lot of you, but I’m only fifteen. Having had a boyfriend, my first boyfriend, mind you, for over two years and to be absolutely perfectly happy is something I cherish. It may last, it may not, but whatever happens, these past two years have been wonderful. And I would like to say thank you to Josh for making that happen ^_^

2) My parents are separated. Just a little before I started going out with Josh, my parents separated. They aren’t divorced yet, as my Mum would like to wait so they don’t have to go to court about it. My Mum was the one who left, and I am on her side here. I love both my parents, but unfortunately my Dad can be hard to deal with and talk to sometimes. From what I understand he wasn’t very nice to her over the 18 years that they were married, and I’m sure there are other reasons that my mum hasn’t told me about. I live with my mum, but I do go and visit my Dad every week or so. It’s not fair otherwise ^_^

3) After that sour note, I will say that I have a bit of a weakness for cheesecake. Okay, a lot of a weakness for cheesecake. Seriously, I love it so much and if you give me cheesecake, I will love you forever. And ever. It’s just the best type of cake and it’s so yummy and even cheap cheesecake tastes alright. God, the best cheesecake is the white chocolate and ginger cheesecake at Wagamama. Oh, it’s just so gorgeous!

4) I have an addiction to buying notebooks that I don’t need. I love my notebooks (this being the paper, not the laptop! ^_^’) and I have amassed over 30 of them in the two years that I’ve lived with my mum, and they live in a pile on my desk. I just have a thing for pretty notebooks – Paperchase is my favourite shop in the entire world, and if I had enough money I would so buy everything in that damn shop, I adore it so.

5) Cats are my favourite animal. I’m not a big fan of dogs – I think some dogs are cute, depending on the breed and the disposition, but I think all cats are snuggly and lovely. Sure, you can’t take your cat on a walk, and it won’t bound up to the door when you get home, but I think having the gorgeous fur rubbing against your legs as you pour the morning coffee, and the furball that curls up next to you when you feel down is a lot better ^_^ I think it’s also just the person I am that makes me prefer cats to dogs… I don’t want a slobbery, excitable dog – I’d much prefer a quiet cat who doesn’t think she is, knows that she is the queen of the castle. Also, big cats, come on! Lion and tigers and all those wonderful creatures of the jungle and the plains. Beautiful.

6) I am a published poet! As I neglected to tell you guys sooner, here’s the news! I’ve had one of my poems published in the first issue of an online literary magazine called One Throne. I’m so proud of myself – I think I’m the youngest contributor there as well ^_^ I forgot to send them a link to my blog or anything (I am new to this!) so here is the link to the first published poem by Eleanor Austin! Giants by Eleanor Austin

7) I’m not sure what I want to be in the future yet. Of course, being an author/poet would be the best case scenario, but I’m not going to rely on my writing for income. I’ll always keep writing, and I’d love to get a book published some day, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to rely on that for my main source of income. So, other than writing, I have no idea what I want to do. Something to do with language I think. More likely that not, I think I’ll become a teacher. It’s what I always wanted to do when I was little, and I’ve been bombarded with people telling me that I shouldn’t be a teacher, that it’s horrible and I could do more with what I have (these people happen to be my teachers!).

8) A few of my GCSE exams are coming up very soon… Most people are doing all 10 of their GCSE exams in year 11, but I’m doing three early. This year I have my maths, English and French exams. There’s actually only two of us in my school year doing French early, which makes me feel quite special ^_^ and it means I’ll get kind of a free period next year. I’ll be making a start on the IB Higher French course, and having a look at the materials and things, but if I need any extra time for other subjects, I can do that instead! That’s very handy!

9) I used to be afraid of eating at restaurants. My Dad used to have this when he was younger too, and he hadn’t even told me about that when I developed the fear. But I’ve got over it now. It used to be kind of difficult for my parents, because I would sit at restaurants, not eat very much, be really shaky and nervous and I refused to talk to the waiter/waitress. I just wouldn’t, I hated talking to people that I didn’t know. I felt like they were judging me, for my taste in clothes or food. I hated buying and talking to cashiers. I’m getting better now, though. I’ve just learnt that I have to be confident in myself. Also, I’m not as important as I think I am. Sure, the waitress might judge me for my choice in food, but she’s not going to think about it for the rest of the week! She’ll forget in 3 seconds, when she has to go and talk to another table!

10) (Wow, I could write a whole blog post about each of these!) My real name is Eleanor Austin, as you’ve probably seen above, and I really don’t like it that much. Eleanor for me is shortened to Ellie by most people, but I think Ellie makes me sound like I’m 6, and Eleanor makes me sound like I’m 60! For a teenager I think it’s a bit of a weird name – but to be honest, I don’t think I’d be the same person if I had a different name. It’s a part of me now.

11) The furthest country from the UK to which I’ve ever travelled is Germany. I’d love to do more travelling in my life – it’s just my family never had too much money to spend on going on holiday and things. But Italy is a dream of mine, and so’s Greece. I just love the food and the heat! Hot weather is seriously my favourite thing, and we don’t get much of it in the UK. I’d love to sit on a sunny beach and write a poem or something, but that’s not really an option where I live ^_^’

Questions from bookinspire33

1) What do you enjoy most about blogging?

I love being able to post a poem and know that somewhere, it’s being read. It just makes me feel really lovely, that someone has read the poem that I’ve written.

2) What’s the most unusual book you’ve ever read? (could be theme, format, writing style etc)

I didn’t manage to finish it, as it is quite a long book and the format is very odd! I can’t recall the title right now, but it was a zombie book written of letters and emails between characters. There was another zombie book I was reading written only in diary entries. I think these are really interesting, but I’m not sure whether they hold my attention enough to keep reading, sometimes.

3) Was there a book series you started reading but gave up on because you lost interest?

I have to say, Skullduggery Pleasant. I used to absolutely love those books, but as I got older and the sixth book came out, I simply lost interest. I think it just became to convoluted for me. Luckily, my little brother then got into the series so the books weren’t wasted!

4) What’s the worst book you’ve ever read? Why did you dislike it?

I don’t like saying ‘worst’ book, but the book that I disliked the most is ‘Holes’ by Louis Sachar. I’m not even quite sure why, I just HATE it with a burning passion! I just don’t like that kind of story – it was nothing to do with the way it was written (although I did find it a bit patronising) I just don’t like stories about young’uns (in general) and I don’t like stories set in real life. I like my fantasy and sci-fi, but I don’t like Holes. Neither do I like most things by Michael Morpurgo, I have to say.

5) What’s your favourite bookshop? (could be a chain or an indie)

I just like Waterstones! Normally there’s a coffee shop in it, and there’s a manga and graphic novel section as well, which is fantastic! I love my manga, I do ^_^

6) Has there ever been a book character which turned out exactly the way you imagined they would when you saw them in the film adaptation?

I have to say, I haven’t seen the film for Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, but when I was younger I finished that series of books and I loved it to bits. Now it’s just a fond memory, but when I saw the trailer for the film I though that Percy himself was perfectly cast. Not so much everyone else, but I think Percy Jackson turned out exactly the same as I imagined him.

7) Have you ever visited a location just because it was featured in a book?

No, I haven’t really had the chance. Also, as I said, I don’t tend to like stories set in real life. If I could go to Ankh-Morpork, I would!

8) Do you have a particular bookmark you always use, or do you just use whatever is lying around?

I have many many little bits of paper in the pocket of my school blazer, and I tend to use those. So it’s normally my old school/exam timetables or letters that should have gone to Mum or something!

9) Do you mind if the spines or pages of your paperbacks get creased, or is it important to you to keep them looking like new?

I do like to keep my books looking nice and new. The creasing in the spine really annoys me, especially when it covers up words with the whiteness. Argh! And if you dog-ear my pages, you suffer a fate worse than death. One thing I do like about old and tattered books is the smell, though. Love that smell!

10) What’s the best library you’ve ever visited?

I don’t tend to go to libraries, but the one that I love is the one my mum goes to to work on her doctorate, because it’s a big one reserved for the University students and has a cafe and many floors and is a beautiful big modern building. It’s awesome!

11) If you could spend a day in the shoes of any literary character, who would it be?

I have to say, it would have to be Susan Sto Helit, Death’s Granddaughter from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld. She’s a nanny, and I’d love to have that job, plus the Discworld – oh my God, who wouldn’t want to live on that beautiful and magical world? It’s a work of genius in my opinion, and Death is such a wonderful character. He’s so dry and fantastic!

Here are my nominees; didn’t quite manage 9, but here’s 6!

Memory Keeper

NL Designs By the Sea

Bright Ideas for Writers

Metro Journalist

100 Happy Days of Brie

Joe Watson

And here are my questions for them:

1) What made you start blogging, and how long have you been blogging for?

2) What is your favourite book that you have ever read?

3) What is your least favourite book?

4)Have you ever written a poem? Why/Why not?

5) Do you like to read/write?

6) What inspires you?

7) What is happiness to you?

8) What colour do you associate with yourself and why?

9) What is your favourite part about yourself?

10) What is your least fond memory?

11) What is your fondest memory?

Happy Writing!!

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Supernova

A beauty lost in space, almost beyond our starlit skies.
The jets of golden dust and clouds that burn into your eyes.
Our universe is full of darkness, soon there will be light.
In distant space, a tiny spark burns into something bright.
One million years ago, a star let out its dying throes.
The moment’s there, the moment’s gone, the moment no one knows,
In such a moment, life becomes a silent sky of scars.
The nova’s in the twinkle when you look up to the stars.

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