Saturday 15 October 2011

Writing 'til my heart stops beating

Hello,

I have a little poem for you today. I wrote it after CSPE (Civic, Social and Political Education) class because I was annoyed with  my teacher because she had said we had to write a poem about a bully but then she changed her mind and gave us a story about a bully to write a poem on. I normally love just being given a word or a phrase or a sentence and having to write about it because I can twist it into anything I want it to be but this was a story and it was a very limited story, she said that the bully was being accused by their teacher that they bullied someone but the bully didn't think that they bullied the person just that the person annoyed them. Anyway I am going very off subject here so here is the poem: 

 Give me something to write about,
 A word, a phrase, a sentence
 Give me something to write about                                                                          
 Give me a word, I'll give you a page                
 Give me a phrase, I'll give you a notebook,
 Give me a sentence and I'll give you a whole novel,
 Just give me something to write about,
                        Please?

Well, I wrote it in two minutes and I'll probably change some of it but I like the essence of it, the whole "I give more than I get because I just love it so much'. And I do love writing so much. In my opinion, you haven't lived until you write with a pen until your fingers ache and not for a test but because you can't get your thoughts out fast enough. Or typing on a computer so much that you barely, or just plain don't, have to even look at the keys because you type so much you know exactly where the right keys are.That, to me, is living. Living in your own head, in your own imaginary world where there might be a few things wrong but nothing that can't be cured with a wave of a wand or a slash of a sword. It sounds violent but it's better than the blast of a gun or the explosion of a bomb which is what there is in the real world and in my imaginary world the whole point of the sash of the sword is so you can bring them back to life to show them what will happen to them if they don't mend their ways. I imagine death as cold, just cold and never being able to be warm again.

Think about it, 
Clíodhna
xxx

2 comments:

  1. Writer with a crayon for a pen19 October 2011 at 18:16

    Is that not only living virtually though? What about living in the real world? It's not all guns and bomb. There's whole countries and places to see and people to meet out there.

    I'm not against writing, but what do you write about if you don't experience life? Perfection is not about nothing being wrong, but finding the beauty and the happiness in spite of the ugliness and bitterness, without the wave of a magic wand.

    Don't waste your life in front of blank pages -- make the canvas of your life a blank page.

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  2. Yes, it is only living virtually but at the moment I feel myself asking 'Is there any reason to live in the real world versus my own creation? What if I like my world better?' I wholeheartedly agree with your point and your last line is inspirational but my question to you is, Why bother? Why bother if you can create all of that in your mind?

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