Burned

I’ve burned my thumb this morning on the steam from the kettle. Jesus H Christ it fucking hurts. I mean really hurts!

I’m up far too early (5.30am) because I went to bed far too early. Go figure. I thought I’d sneak downstairs whilst the house of Dixon was still soundly snoring, and write for a while. Working on my new Novella ‘House on Hundred Hill’ but writers block still plagues me. I know the beginning, the middle and the end. I know my characters very well, I know where they are and where I want them to be but for some reason, I can’t get them there.

Hmmm…. time for more coffee and to bandage my burned thumb.

Random Poetry: From Where You Are…

I stare back through the storm
Penetrating the essence of your spirit
My gaze burning a righteous perforation
Straight through your wounded heart

The bruises mask the scars you wear
Tattoos that smother the flesh
In the pictures
Of a thousand haunted memories

The flicker of your greying eyes
Provides the only answer
I need seek no more
For I have already found my Aladdin’s Cave

No longer do I sense the heat of fire
Passion does not dwell
Desire does not reign
Our time is done
Never to be reborn from the flame

Yet there you stand, tall and strong
A thousand miles from anywhere
So close to nowhere
Aching, yearning, reaching for the one
You will never hold again

Steel bars, wrapped around a beating heart
Only ever freed by the soul that holds the key
Never repaired, never again
Yet safe in the knowledge that the one I seek
I have already found

I search no more
For there you are
A thousand miles from anywhere
The grasp of your hand slipping softly
Slipping forever, from the merest touch of my fingers 

Safe in the knowledge
You will always be there
The invisible protector
The guiding light, glinting from across the stormy seas
Safe in the knowledge, you will never be there again

Where are the words?

Dammit! I have a bad case of wordlessness. I mean really, everything I write at the moment is great big steaming pile of shite. DELETE, DELETE, DELETE!

ARGGGGGHHHHH!!!

It’s not that I can’t write. I’ve proved that I can. It’s just that I can’t write anything good, right now.

It’s early…

Yawwwwwwnnnn!

It’s 8.10am on a Sunday morning. Thoughts of my new work are running through my brain. I always write chapters of it in my mind whilst I’m in bed and there’s nothing I can do about it. I mind-write my best work when I’m in the dream-like space between sleep and awake and in the morning I can never remember, so the words never make it to the screen of my laptop.

I s’pose I should start taking a notepad to bed with me, but then it would mean turning on the light and waking up my husband. That just would not be good. Either that or I should try and switch off my mind before I go to sleep. But that never works either.

Solutions on a post card….