August 24, 2007 at 9:04 pm (Writing, Writing, reading, the meaningful words)

For someone I know, who suspects its them. Maybe I will never say ‘will you let me help you?’ but I am always there if you do.

Quick greek lesson:
Phileo – friendship love
Agape – commitment love
Eros – romantic love


Sun steps slowly through the clouds…Windows watching.
The wind washes kiss across your face. Its morning. Nature meets you on a porch, with flowers and a sparrow. You welcome it in, with broken heart and half remembered smile. As night time slowly leaves you, stop to cry. As morning arms embrace you, do nothing and trust.

Lying down you feel the long grass cold and wet, feel the shine in your face, smell the peat and the hint of an easy life. You catch yourself smiling again, then thinking of people. Michael, Sarah, Kate and him again.
‘Whats the point?’ asks the lover in your heart. ‘There is no escape.’
Phileo in your heart, phileo in your blood.

Ripping grass out between your fingers, clawing your nails on a life indestructible.
You’re angry at me and you’re angry at God. You feel like noone can help you. Noone can. So you sit, hungry, crushing daisies in your thumbs whilst happy people try to help.

But you still remember don’t you? That’s why you sit by the flagpole remembering names, waiting for the truth, waiting for mercy, retribution, a song. You’re waiting for someone who can save you, or never let you go. You don’t love Him but you need Him.
Agape hold on you. Never let you go.

This is sunrise, hill and flag. Long nights spent here praying, for your future and your friends. This place is water in your tears, when you’ve tried to leave. Praying now is harder, quieter, but parts of you still say trust, as the sun hides behind the clouds those parts say feel the rain, feel new. As evening is coming, light vanishes but the way still seems clear. Desire starts to guide you like eros in thought.

You know I have been here, just like you. Sobbing pain not so different, sickness not so different. So I pretend I understand, but the truth is that I don’t. You see, somewhere in recovery I forgot. I spent years searching for an answer, gazed up at clouds, clawed through wormholes – I think I found an answer but I forget what it was.
Ach, the paper’s tangling in my hands.
Any time you want to turn around and look at me I’m here.

I have felt the same. Felt the knife inside turning like the hands on a clock, felt the pain of just surviving. No hope, no help, nothing in the world to stop you from falling. Crying out, year on year, you expected there would be an answer. I’m sorry but I found the answer. Heard something. It made me forget the pain, so I’m useless to you now, though with all my heart I’d try to help you.

So all you have is questions.
Why is this happening to me? Why? Where is He?
All you have is teeming farms and forest, you sit on nature next to rivers and set down fields. You’re lying by the river bed and waiting. You’re holding out your hands and nearly asking. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry. I hurt you.


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material girl picture and words

March 20, 2007 at 4:31 pm (Writing)

I saw a photograph and thought ‘material girl’.
If I have a picture and some words I definitely have to write it, whether thats a good idea or not.
The words stayed with me for the rest of the day, and I asked Tom if it was a song. Apparently, yes, the rest of the world has found their madonna and material girl is a song. I was gutted, but decided to write it anyway, so material girl is a story now, but don’t blame me blame the picture that I saw.
So I wrote my first madonna fanfiction, thats a line that should never be crossed.

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Mother and Cross

March 19, 2007 at 8:29 pm (Christian, Mother's Day, With what I do may I worship you, Writing, Writing, reading, the meaningful words)


Mother means temperate, tender, means the world, means love –
I’ll hold on to you, and never let go, some say and mother means
(English told me what to say but mother showed me how to feel)

Completely sure about me before I ever knew,
Completely there, completely love. Don’t listen to doctors, she says
Don’t ever let go
“I will push you, heal you, help you, stop you, and whatever the need I’ll love you the

People matter, mother knows. Its written on my jacket collar.
School mornings, lunch times, home time…
You taught me how to learn and why, touch your heart, touch the sky
Hold me close and don’t ever give up, don’t ever let go

Femminism, socialism, music and wit.
Your conscience defined me
Temper infused me
Heroes, holidays, sums. How to count, and make things count

I love you, says the actor to the cinema, bank to the butcher, girl to your heart
I love you, says mother, says and actually meant


Wood hacked off and standing, your hands nail pierced and hanging. Finally I come
here with the purpose in mind of paying respect at the foot of this, no, of the cross.
What do you want me to do?
I want to separate myself from this crowd that walked with and abandoned you, when
my every step is a step too far, I want.
Your body part dead or alive now, bits of skin like cracked off paint, mostly maimed.
The blood, what did they do to you? Your legs are sodden with it and your chest
heaves out the rest. I come to this cross clothes clean, hands open, so I try to bloody
my mind in burdens. I can’t take you in, or try to live you out, so I’ll make myself an
apparition half like me and half like you, on the cross.

I am ego.
I want the crown but not the thorns.
I want.
So much less than you deserve. I want. My everything is lost.
My everything is TangledHorrorOnlyRescueNeverendingSaviour.

I forget.
Your drop of blood it touches me and trickles down my chest, cleaning my clothes.
Your ancient tortured loving cries that brought me here and brought the crowd. I
wanted to shout out ‘What shall I do’ but only whimpered ‘help me’ and you did. My
clothes cleaned, my focus changed, my life changed and everything is done for me
everything is cross.

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