The creative outlet for prose, poetry & non-fiction.
Enveloped by murky waters,
Breathing in the froth that bubbles to the surface.
Sediment and sea monkeys float into your throat.
-Sigh-
The liquid claws into your lungs.
-Splutter-
You drift…
You’re a buoy or a lily pad resting.
The seaweed clings onto your braids,
As fish nibble your cheeks,
And waves pull you towards the sun.
Sipping lemonade in the sidelines,
And gazing at the ground.
Those weak and sunken eyes,
With hair matted and lips cracked.
You are no Juliet, no Elizabeth, no Jane;
Just homesick for the parents you ran from.
Practising lines in bathroom stalls and hoping to get by,
You pawn the ring a boy long ago gave you,
In hopes that they’ll notice you tomorrow.
Unfortunately due to travelling I haven’t been blogging much in the last few weeks. However now I am back in sunny York I will be updating this blog biweekly.
My son and daughter bicker in the midday heat,
With broken English I tell them to speak Spanish;
The language of my mother,
That was so tenderly spoken to me.
They tell me I need adopt the American lifestyle,
And all the verbs, nouns and adjectives that follow;
They see no need for my sentimentality.
But my native tongue drips with history,
While my Florida son and daughter utter words I do not know.
On Thursday I attended the York e-learning Conference at York St John university. This conference focused upon how technology can improve HE students learning experience. I spoke briefly about how this blog has enabled me to progress at university and create an account of my creative pieces. This blog has given me the opportunity to have a voice when I am too nervous to speak. By having this outlet I have gained confidence in my ability to write in multiple forms of literature and I am very thankful for my university asking us to create this blog.
University is challenging for everyone. However university can be much more challenging if you have self-esteem and confidence issues. I have BDD and have somehow managed to attend all my lectures and seminars but sometimes just being there is incredibly difficult for me. There have been times I have felt unable to participate in group work and have not felt confident enough to read out my creative responses. Therefore having a blog gives me a voice when I feel too anxious to speak up. As a student of Creative Writing it is very important for me to engage with texts and forms and to also get my work out there. Blogging allows me to have a presence as a writer even if I struggle in everyday situations. I am very pleased that York St John value platforms such as blogs because it gives every student the ability to show their skills and progress.
I recently watched Ishirō Honda’s 1954 Gojira followed by Gareth Edwards’ 2014 Godzilla, however choosing the ‘best’ is problematic. I have always loved the original Gojira as it had depth to it, it reveals the worries of a generation in the most stunning and dramatic way possible, a Jurassic period creature reigning terror. Although I personally find the cinematography and character development much better in Honda’s I cannot say if it is overall better. Edwards’ Godzilla gives the monster an emotional depth as he is positioned as the destructive yet somewhat heroic king on the monster that has a moral compass. I found this portrayal to be so far from Honda’s touching anti-nuclear war message that the two films are barely recognisable. I think perhaps the only thing in common is fear; Japan’s fear of nuclear weapons and perhaps America’s fear of terrorism. Godzilla symbolises a fear that all nations have over their own safety, it is perhaps much more palatable if instead of portraying the true fear to have it shown as something so fantastical that one can barely see the resemblance.
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Upon reading Andrew Wilson’s biography of Sylvia Plath Mad Girl’s Love Song I saw the importance of distancing a writers works from their supposed life. A biography is a tricky thing especially one written so far after the death of the subject. This biography is entertaining as reading extracts of letters associated with someone’s life does satisfy the voyeur in me. However from what I have learnt from Roland Barthes Death of The Author I know that it is all too easy to focus upon the life of the author too much when trying to interpret texts. Therefore when studying literature it can negatively effect your ability to analyse texts if you read up on the authors life too much, as you can end up making irrelevant connections.
When kicking dust into a cloud around my ankles I feel free.
When treading over crunching leaves in a forest I feel free.
When jumping off rocky heights into still waters below I feel free.
When hitching rides from county to county I feel free.
With just an old map and a few dollars crumpled in my pocket I feel free.
When the wind roars violently across the valley I feel free.
When the embers in the stove are the only light I feel free.
When words on the page of worn classics are all that matter I feel free.
When thick snow carpets the ground around me I feel free.
With just my own mind for company I feel free.
If I could write a letter to my former self,
I would tell myself to smile every single day.
If I could write a letter to my former self,
I would tell myself to stop always expecting the worst.
If I could write a letter to my former self,
I would tell myself that it’s okay to be yourself.
If I could write a letter to my future self,
I would tell myself that the past no longer matters;
But remember that at this time I was happy,
And I can always be happy again.