Poetry Thursday 82 - Depths

 In this era of self-reflection, meditation and mindfulness, I wonder if we actually accrue the mental equipment necessary to protect ourselves as we progress through life. 

Depths

 

Within the labyrinth of the human mind,

in a place no-one will ever find,

are history, trauma and reverie,

behind the dark door of memory.

 

Through the door is a tideless sea,

only accessible to you or me,

beneath the surface shallows and trenches,

into which our memory plunges.

 

There for our eternity,

sometimes raised for conscious scrutiny,

only to be shared to suitable audiences,

too rich for the unattached masses.

 

An ocean of actions and experiences,

not to be forgotten they are treasures,

but applied by us accordingly,

for self-repair knowingly.

© David L. Atkinson March 2025 

God Bless 

Writing - Interpretations

The way in which we write is open to interpretation. We have the power to guide those interpretations by the way we present situations and the quantity of information we supply. 

What is Garfield thinking really?

The inclusion of situations in stories also opens up the opportunity for twists and turns in the outcome of your stories. 

So when something is described in one way there maybe more than one way of looking at that item. What is Garfield thinking in the pic above? Is he really showing he doesn't care; is he suffering a hangover; is he displaying aggression; or, is he simply tired? 

A bit of a simplistic example but using this element in your story can be as simple or complicated as you wish to make it. 

The Tangerine Tosser. 

Does this title refer to a person who is extremely adept at throwing citrus fruit; or, someone who delivers oranges from a distance; or, a person who expounds ridiculous ideas thought up during sessions of self-gratification? 

The imagination is the only limit as to what you can produce. You can limber up by watching news items and listening to different viewpoints. It may help increase creative flexibility in your thinking.

 

God Bless 

 

Poetry Thursday 81 - The Dance

 We are all on the same journey irrespective of creed, colour or nationality. The poems today are reflections of advancing age. 

The Dance

 

The Christmas card list gets ever shorter,

another friend once someone’s daughter,

has shuffled off this good green earth,

having lived a life of value and worth.

That hopefully lengthy vital journey,

from vibrant youth to the considered elderly,

was filled with rainbow colours bright,

from initial dawn to the final night.

At a time when the canvas is turning green,

and new life and hope is readily seen,

to lose someone is such a shame,

but the burgeoning of Spring may ease the pain.

 

This season of rebirth and new light,

of flowers appearing after night,

discloses evidence of life and strength,

as each day increases in length.

We all must join the dance through every age,

accept the sorrow, turn the page,

for Spring is coming with a sweeter song,

and life goes on hopeful and strong.

© David L Atkinson February 2025

 

 

A bit of tongue in cheek but then what choice do we have. 

When I Got Older

 

Already lost most of my hair,

very little original colour there,

it was supposed to be years from now,

waking up and moving with ooh and owww!

Old folk noises just slip out,

then ageing ailments like arthritis and gout,

punctuate the day from dawn till lights out.

 

Grabbing the trekking poles I set off on a journey,

to the kitchen, well within my capability,

having arrived I pondered my history,

yomped back to the lounge to jog my memory.

Then I dropped a fork on the floor,

no dive down to retrieve it anymore,

but consideration of how my back was sore.

 

Having indulged in this burst of action,

time to repair to recliner for reflection,

two hours later jerked awake,

and off to the bathroom a leak to take,

I could give more detailed fact,

tell more tales of aged act,

but age is an individual contract.

© David L Atkinson February 2025  

God Bless 

Writing - Emotion

 Unless you are writing an instruction manual on how to plait fog you will need emotion in your work. That simple fact takes us back to writing from where you're at. Emotion is an essential tool in engaging readers. 

Of course, numerous emotions and levels of emotional reaction need to be understood if not experienced, if they are to be used in writing. In reality, the vast majority of us do not experience the types of emotion associated with war or great deprivation but there are many examples from whom we can learn. In fact, today while writing this, there was an interview with girls attacked by a knife-wielding murderer in Southport last summer. The emotion on the teacher's face was palpable and her words took the viewer back to the horrors of what she had been through. 

The negative emotions are possibly the most difficult to handle and describe but there are examples that can help. Few of us have experienced extreme fears, but reading can supply some help. 

The more positive emotions such as happiness are probably easier to apply in your writing and thankfully we all will have experienced some level of joy in our lives. Similarly, sorrow and loss touches everyone at some point in their lives and is available to creative types. 

There is no doubt in my mind that emotion will improve the quality of your work and provide readers with the tear-generating, side-splitting opportunities that you want when being entertained by the written word. 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 80 - Has Spring sprung?

 It's so cold. It has been grey for a fortnight. Snowdrops are late, daffs haven't appeared as yet and there are few signs of nesting birds. 

I Love Spring

 

I love this time of year,

when there is a promise of everything new,

but, judging by the weather I fear,

winter, hanging by fingernails, has a different view.

 

Snowdrops, daffodils and newborn chicks,

making their happy return,

banishing the dark with bright colour licks,

but, this year, slow the winter blanket to spurn.

 

A plethora of damp, days of chilly grey,

no cheerful games or shoots of green,

an urge to bend the knee and pray,

that optimistic shoots will soon be seen.

 

Was there a hint of sunlight just now,

could there be a change brewing?

A little encouragement and how,

she will demonstrate the joys of growing.

© David L Atkinson February 2025 

God Bless 

Writing - Building scenarios

 Sometimes building a scene for your story can be a bit of a headache, but rather than going from zero to sixty in minutes, there are stages you can adopt to help. 

The strategy involves memory and the senses. It is available to all those who have lived and breathed on this planet for a few years and there is no secret. It may come under the heading of meditating or mindfulness or whatever but in reality it is simply reflecting on past experiences and applying memories of how it felt to be in that situation. 

The idea of this has been reawakened while writing my autobiography. I began writing it to pass on my history to my children rather than for public consumption, but you never know. I was recalling actions that took place when I was very young and how I felt at the time. That simple exercise reminded me of smells, and atmosphere that were imprinted on my memory over 60 years ago. 

It is those memories that can be used and transcribed and used in the 21st century. When I was around six years old I fell and cut open my head and had 2 stitches just above my eyebrow. Although, I don't remember the accident I do remember the subsequent couple of occurrences at school. The headteacher, a grey lady of great age, to a six year old she may have been in her forties, asked to see me each day of the week until it was plain that I was okay. 

I was obviously impressed. The headteacher in the 1950's was godlike. This lady was 'grey' - she wore a grey two-piece suit, jacket and skirt, made from what looked like a heavy tweed-like material. She was an imposing lady but with a gentle voice. She would read story to us on a Friday afternoon. 'Alice in Wonderland' as I recall. 

I can remember her holding my face up in two soft, warm hands and looking at the dressing on my forehead. I recall feeling happy and cared for after the first visit to her office. The first time I went I was terrified, but she was very kind. 

If I was to use this scenario or the headteacher in this century there is an emotional store of information in my mind that can be useful in building colour around what happened. This was a very small incident but it stayed in my memory because of the emotion attached and it is that sort of richness that engages a reader in stories. I use the incident to demonstrate how relatively insignificant interactions can have value in building scenarios or even constructing characters when we are writing. 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 79 - OO hands off Seaburn

 So the Gaza Strip is going to be Mar-a-Lago 2! Is any strip of sand next to the sea safe? 

OO hands off Seaburn

 

Here bonny lad, what d’yer thing yer deein’,

its nivver red hot in Seaburn,

the watter’s alwes freezin’,

you’ve a better chance of windburn rather than sunburn,

it’ll nivver mek a golf links so hands off our Seaburn.

 

Hang on there marra not yours to tek,

just cos there’s a lorra sand and sea,

disn’t  giv yer the right to mek,

changes to where we plodged with family,

it’ll nivver be a posh spot so hands off our Seaburn.

 

Hold yer hosses yer not from rund here,

yer knaa nowt of collectin’ coal off the beach,

or even of where to get the best beer,

what to dee with the sand in yer sandwich,

a word in yer ear hands off our Seaburn.

 

Wee der yer think yer are with yer flash claes and fancy tan,

yer probably divint speak the language,

let alone knaa wot a lass needs from her man,

so draw your horns in, we winnit budge,

craal back in yer hole, hands off our Seaburn.

© David L Atkinson February 2025 

God Bless