What Goes on in My Head to Produce Poems like This?

A slightly worrying poem I doodled in English, written to follow the pattern of "Time" by Allen Curnow. Gotta worry about my mental state eh? I couldn't quite think of an appropriate title, but I think it would probably be something like paranoia or guilt ... I dunno, see what you think!

I am the noises you hear in the night,

I am the shadows that swallow the light,
I am the plague, the sickness, the blight.

I am the monster under your bed,

I am the voices inside of your head,

I am the mem’ry of all that is dead.

I am the letter you’re too scared to send,

I am the grief your mind cannot mend,

I am the traitor you once thought a friend.

I am the doctors who check on your health,
I am the false friends after your wealth,

I am the knife, the assassin’s stealth.

I am the footsteps that follow you now,

I am the motive, the when and the how,

I am the cost of the king’s shining crown.

I am the screams and the grief-stricken shouts,
I am the fear that puts an army to rout,

I am the maze, one way in, no way out.

In shadowy corners, at the door, on the stair,
Wherever you look, I wait for you there.

Your constant companion, the very last one,
I know your secrets.
I know what you’ve done.

Word of Inspiration: Havoc

Wow, it's been ages since I've done one of these ... far too many distractions running around lately *swats them*.
Still, hope you enjoy my newest offering!

“No, no don’t do that you stupid animal!”

But it was too late.  An outburst of furious barking split the idyllic morning air, and a long-eared hare sprinted into the thicket, closely followed by a yapping black blurr. Birds shot out of the trees, chirping their alarm calls and adding to the chaotic symphony of snapping branches, crunching leaves and panicked rustlings as the other woodland animals dived for cover. Somewhere in the distance, as stag let out a bellow of alarm and the rumble of thousands of hooves sent reverberations through the hard-packed earth.

Standing in the middle of the glade, a young woman threw her arms in the air and cursed. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and she doubted it would be the last. All it took was a single rabbit or fox to stick its nose into the open and he would be off, yapping and running as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. He never caught anything – thank goodness! – but already there had been complaints from the park owners that the wildlife was being “tormented” by the events. Personally, she found it rather hard to belive a small black schnautzer could “torment” anything bigger than a tennis ball.

As the chaos continued to unfold in the bushes, the woman remembered a phrase from a play she had read back in her school days. She smiled.


"Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war ..."

I Liiiiiiiiiiiive!

Hey everyone! I'm alive!
Just thought I'd let you know that ....

I probably should have posted this yesterday, but due to a combination of lack of food/ sleep deprivation/ pain I was a little too dishevelled to do so. Still, nothing a shower and a good sleep won't sort out eh?

Anyway, regarding my trip, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. For a start, we got tents (yes! real tents, not just smelly ponchos!) and we didn't have to hunt out our dinner either. Although, I might have preferred squirrel sandwiches to that dire plastic cheese....
Dartmoor was, well, Dartmoor, so we got very wet. It was freezing too, I'll tell you that. You don't believe me? Well, I was wearing six layers, a waterproof, two pairs of gloves and a massive beanie hat and I was STILL cold.

I won't bore you with everything I did (mostly just navigation practice, trekking, getting lost and a bit more trekking) but I will tell you about our little rock-climbing escapade. The climbing wall we had was alright - most of us got to the top okay. It was the abseil that scared the piddle out of me.

Twenty foot drop. Sheer cliffs. Wet ground. Self-Belaying system.
Was I scared? Hell yeah!

However, being the brave soul that I am, I volunteered to show the boys how brave I was by volunteering myself. Everything was fine as I was strapped in (namely because I had my eyes screwed shut to keep from lookin down) and came to the edge of the ledge. "Just take it slowly" said the officer in charge. I nodded and put my foot off the edge, looking for some purchase...
And dropped almost half a metre off the edge off the cliff.

Don't worry, don't worry, I was fine. In fact, after that little episode, I rather enjoyed the experience. However, the hilarity of the situation truly became apparent when I watched the video the officer had taken of my descent. He calls it "Robson's Magic Act."
Why, you ask?
Because one moment you see me (looking very pudgy in all my layers, standing on the edge, rope held very professionally, leaning back, feeling for handholds) and then .... you don't!
You hear me though. I swear I didn't know I could squeak at such a high pitch .... hee hee!

So yeah, I had a pretty good time, wet tents and gale-force winds aside. Now all I have to do is chew my nails over the results of the scholarship papers I took today, and about the ones I have in the morning too!

Isn't my life exciting? ;)

-Spook

Experiments with Imagery

Today I decided to try a new experiment. Write a short piece using as much imagery as possible in less than 200 words. Hope you enjoy!

Rustle of brown paper as new boots are unwrapped for the first time, falling in delicate leaves of darkest brown and gold.
Leather creaks and toes wriggle gleefully as they explore the cavernous depths of this new, exciting place.
Smell of crisp autumm morning and whispering of leaves as they waltz in the arms of the wind, vivid red gowns skimming lightly over discarded skeletons of brown.
Delicious squelching and slurping as tiny muddy gremlins reach out greedily to suck at the polished black leather, licking their tiny tongues all over, relishing and savouring.
Hosepipe whistles as a silver jet gushes over the surface, scouring away the mud monsters’ prints save for tiny veins smooched into the creases at the toes.
New boots. Worn once.