Poetry of the week – natural and unnatural
| October 22, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under poetry |
The unnatural union The blood soaked eyes and hollow expression is enough to make me scream. They approach and I wish in vain that this is a nightmare, some sick dream. I pinch myself, and do not wake up, it is real and they are coming near. My body trembles no longer fully under my control as they look at me hungrily, already I am showing fear. This is wrong I want to scream, its un-natural and yet they exist, they are here. I stare at into its hungry soulless eyes, what was once someone is no gone what to call this thing is unclear. I could call it a result of the sickness or just simply a monster, it… more
Poetry of the week – trust and lies
| October 8, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under poetry |
Glass Heart The shards on the window sill Glitter as the sun sets behind their corpse, The corpse of my heart. You cut it out piece by piece, Indulging in the deliciousness of the moment. My delicate glass heart had cracked. It shattered in my chest and you, In your kindness, Picked at the fragments, Lifting them out and placing them on the sill So I would feel no pain. And now my broken heart stares at me and whispers: He lied. By Zahra-Claire Bahrani-Peacock A Game Of Lies I smile at you behind a false mask. I play my role patiently telling you what you want to hear, everything you ask. I lie to you, and you foolishly let… more
Poetry of the week – journeys
| September 18, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under poetry |
Photographs You see the photographs, the couple’s happy faces An embrace of pure affection. The kiss, their lips tasting each others’ sweetness A moment of happiness captured forever Then your chest starts to sink. You feel physically sick A thousand questions enter your mind A thousand thoughts come to mind The lump in your throat grows and tightens An angry hot tear emerges at the corner of your eyes and rolls down your cheek And the battle builds up inside you Until you say out loud the words ‘He lied, he always lies’. By Eleanor Willett A Cyclic Journey The mist settles and I fade into the night. I awake in the room of journeys again; it would seem… more
Poetry of the week – winners and losers
| September 3, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under poetry |
London’s Burning in my Heart It starts with a small spark in the cold caverns Of a nameless place where despondency shrouds a sunken face and the sky is frozen consumed by poison Then the spark meets another And they huddle together Safe from the clutches of gloom They can exhume Hope Flames showcase a sweet embrace It holds you close Brings out the hero Then fires rage Roaring crowds London’s burning in my heart my mind my bones my being every muscle that quivers across the finish line Tonight Gold is mine By Huma Khan A call A call, a phone call. Who’d have known. One call would change all. One single decision. Who’d have known. Would cause… more
Blue-Eyed Girl
| August 6, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under creative writing |
“They now came upon more and more of the big scarlet poppies, and fewer and fewer of the other flowers; and soon they found themselves in the midst of a great meadow of poppies. Now it is well known that when there are many of these flowers together their odour is so powerful that anyone who breathes it falls asleep, and if the sleeper is not carried away from the scent of the flowers, he sleeps on and on forever. But Dorothy did not know this, nor could she get away from the bright red flowers that were everywhere about; so presently her eyes grew heavy and she felt she must sit down to rest and to sleep.” From The… more
Poetry of the week – urban and rural
| July 31, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under poetry |
Rural solitude of the soul I roam a grassy plain gazing at the stars. From here I can be in peace and sometimes even stare at beautiful planets like Mars. I’m alone like a shadow on a wall. In solitude and isolation where no one can come to call. Yet I feel at peace, all is calm and tranquil. Yet even here that face haunts me still. Though it’s not painful but more bittersweet. The one person I wish to be with, the one goal I am only able to hope I will someday meet. I gaze upon my reflection in a river and ponder my future and what will be. But I am at peace here, nothing can hurt… more
Poetry of the week – mystery and intrigue
| July 25, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under poetry |
Mystery Looking into your eyes is like looking into a room full of smoke. I have a knowledge of what to expect and see but I can’t see everything I wish too, though I can always hope. Looking into you while our eyes meet there’s so much I wish to ask and to be told. However judging by your smile and the way the dodge my questions it appears I will be playing this game until I am old. Every time I get an answer to one of my questions two more appear in my head for me to ask I want to keep trying to understand the mystery that is you, a very lengthy, complex but also fun task.… more
Bark worse than its bite, or too hard to swallow?
| July 23, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under science |
Let’s take a minute to study these quotes: “We are about to embark on a course of enforced mass poisoning” “It has been blamed by doctors from the … National Health Federation for 35,000 cancer deaths every year” “The first ever lawsuits against the US government’s nuclear bomb programme concerned this … ” What do you think the old edition of The Ecologist is referring to? I can confidently assume that your answer was not the correct one: fluoride compounds in our drinking water. This was headline news in the August 2003 edition, which I recently procured at a junk swap, and although I am by no means politically aligned with the magazine this article did make me think. Is there… more
Poetry of the week – movement
| July 9, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under poetry |
Motion Funny, isn’t it? How you can’t spell emotion Without motion. I won’t be the first To confess I’m absent-minded. Shifting between one thought and another, An emotion to another. Funny, isn’t it? How we’re always moving, Even when we’re not really moving. Energy Where there’s no energy, The flourishes of thoughts, The motions of emotions, Dancing around each other, Like people so often do, It’s fun to watch them, When we’re not fluttering, Off into our own worlds. By Alaa Jasim In the Inevitable Wake up. Drag the inertia out of your ears And onto your fingers. Understand Your life is a series of steps Preordained before blistered feet pound Cracked and blasted ground. God frowned on your… more
Poetry of the week – clarity and intoxication
| June 25, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under poetry |
The Downs the Joyous Clarity After Cerone died and rocket girl blown away The shutters flickered, and opened; the machine Drunk on its own dreams clattered to life. The tempter was gone with its violin. The room stank Of sweetness and solitude gone stale. I don’t want to die; I don’t want To grow old; I don’t want to lie in bed On Sunday afternoons in the April thaw And think of nothing but you anymore. I don’t want to watch the light stream through The attic window, or see the particles of dust Fall in its wake, disturbed and shaken Like the atoms of you stretching in my bones. The world is noisy outside but empty here. The airtight… more
