One of my 1st attempts at life drawing. I was relatively pleased with the result. Please feel free to apraise and give tips as I am always willing to learn.
There is an unseen link that binds
As strong as iron and thick as concrete,
Yet sensitive as a butterflies wings.
It can never be broken and will never go away,
Unspoken words heard loud and clear,
A look, a sigh, an ‘I’m OK’.
The knowing, the feeling, intense and clear.
I hear you. I feel you. I see you.
Though a mile or a thousands are in between
It will never weaken and never fade.
Your hopes and fears are mine
Your sadness and trials I feel.
Through bad words and good,
It goes one way and so it should
Kaleidoscopic eyes, unseeing,
Colours running, merging,
Cascading before my darkened eyes.
Seeing nothing but seeing more than the eye can see!
Burst of currents in warm waves pass through,
I am here but not with you, not even with myself.
I am scattered in the universe, free, unshackled
by my earthly form, taking flight.
Perhaps this is my soul, my spirit released
for just a moment in time. A glimpse into eternity
to search the realms of the unknown,
For there is more than we can know
More than anyone can know.
Then like an atom coming together
I am whole again, heavy and grounded.
Back to the confines of reality.
And then come the tears, but not of sadness,
OK now for something completely different. Taking a break from National Poetry Writing Month (Napowrimo) because I am really not that good at poems etc.
However I am good at Boxing and Kickboxing!
Ever since I took up boxing at my gym several years ago I am hooked, excuse the pun. As well as being a great form of exercise it is so much fun and the time goes so quickly that you don’t even think of it as exercise. I do padwork which means I have the gloves on whilst a personal trainer wears protective pads and calls the shots or routine.
So no, I don’t ever get a bloody nose or a knockout, although I do come away with bruises the size of tennis balls when we kickbox sometimes. The stress busting qualities of hitting/kicking those pads is awesome. I have been told my left hook is something to be feared (well I am left-handed so it takes people by surprise). My trainer tells me he’d call on me on a night out if there was ever any trouble!
Which brings me to the man beast question. When I first took it up, my almost grown up daughter asked in aghast why on earth I would do such a manly sport, it was embarrassing and I would start looking like a manbeast (Aren’t kids lovely!) She said that some of her friends went to the gym and they might think I was weird and manly and odd and…….You get the picture.
So sure I was a little crestfallen but did I listen, no way, it is far too much fun, the stress buster qualities are phenomenal, I am toned and fit, my confidence has soared and I feel like I could take care of myself if I had to. Who needs Prozac! Oh and I don’t think I’ve turned into a manbeast. Whats not to love about it? I do the other stuff at the gym too but my favourite is always the boxing.
So did my daughters friends see me at the gym? Sure I was spotted, her friends comment was something along the lines of ‘Saw your mum at the gym the other day, boxing, wow she’s really good, that’s so cool!
Now it seems to have taken off amongst women all over and the most amusing thing is that at least 5 of her friends now also do boxing, including my daughter, I laugh and tell her to be careful, she might turn into a
manbeast…..fit, toned, healthy, confident young lady!
Try it sometime!
I have a rather annoying trait
That I simply cannot help,
No matter what I write
However well thought out
I’ll leave it for a little while
and then I hit DELETE!
I look back at my work,
Last year, today, last month.
It’s really never good enough.
It surely never is.
And so my finger starts to twitch…
That little can of trash,
waiting there upon on the screen,
Inviting me so temptingly
To throw it all away.
Not all at once but dribs and drabs,
Why don’t you start again?
Let it all go, do it now
Then there will be no trace
Of silly thoughts and doubtful words
And pointless mutterings.
A trigger happy delete junkie,
toying with tentative words.
Good job there’s no delete button on life,
I may not still be here!
Can you see?
What do you see?
Do you see as much as me?
Turn down the light,
Tone down the glare,
Soften the colours
Try not to stare.
If I close my eyes
Is it still around,
The tree in the forest
Making no sound.
You cannot see
There is nothing you see
You will never see as much as me.
There is none so blind
So the proverb says
As Those that cannot see.