Saturday, 7 May 2011

Hair Of Silver, Heart Of Gold

Introduction: Alzheimer's is a horrible, horrible illness. The following is devoted to the grandfather of a true friend.

Reminds me a bit of my favourite TV show Grey's Anatomy...
You'll see what I mean if you watch it, I HIGHLY recommend it. HIGHLY.

Enjoy! {Comments & followers welcome as always}

[The names have been changed to protect the identity of those mentioned]


Dear Mr. Knight , I wish you well,
I'm sure you don't have that old people smell.
Though I'm a complete and utter stranger to you,
This little message is the least I can do.

You created a spring for your daughter to flow
And her daughter too has now spouted her own,
But awash in her tides are streaks of pain,
She needs an umbrella to trudge through the rain.

You are her umbrella, her family, her blood
Coursing through her veins, instilled with love.
She will rise from the river where she once sank,
For that, Albert, she has you to thank.

We've never met, Albert, I regret to say
And from what I hear it might be too late.
But from your descendants, the stars to your sun,
I can perceive that you are the one

Who would use their eyes to flash a smile
With an amiable aura all the while.
Like a softly-spoken Morgan Freeman,
I'm sure you're the grandfather of Amy's dreams and

I'm sorry, so sorry, that illness nested
In your head, and spread, a downright pestilence
For a good, honest family, already shook,
Before you leave, Albert, give Amy one final look

That says: Your flesh, by my love, I've always been sunning,
If I was racing for you I would never stop running,
You and your mother bring tears to my eyes
As you've made me so proud. I love you. Goodbye.

But Albert, I'm afraid you are mistaken -
In years, Callie & Amy will awaken,
Among cloisters of cloud, they'll see your face
And join you in a warm embrace.


- I used the surname Knight as Amy's favourite character in Grey's Anatomy is George O'Malley, portrayed by T.R. Knight.

I googled 'hug' and came across a gold mine of cute pics: ENJOY

Go on, laugh :D

This is the exact breed of dog I am getting - his name will be Paddy and I'm getting him as soon as I get my ass out of hospital :)

Anyway enough of the pics, I'm getting carried away, be sure to comment if you like and followers are welcome - the more the merrier.

Thanks for reading x

Wednesday, 4 May 2011

Boy In A Box

Introduction: Sorry I haven't been terribly frequent lately but I will keep to my promise of 3 posts a week.  I have one scheduled for Friday and Sunday so look out for them! This poem is about me being stuck in hospital, and basically I found these awesome pictures of box people and just had to write a poem about them. One of the reasons I've been less frequent with my posts is that I've returned to writing my book (or thinking about it) and Yumi is going to draw the cover. Very excited except I'm also very busy with school (OMG) and therapy - I've reached a fairly crucial point in my recovery and am working towards going on holiday in the summer. Coming up on the blog I have a Royal-themed poem and a wedding-themed short story in honour of the Royal Wedding just gone (I soooo want to be a prince). Also on the way is the final two installments of 5 Friends - No I have not forgotten about Mikli & Sage. And finally, a poem called Sands of Mine an another about a dear friend of mine's ill grandfather. Enjoy and please please please comment :) GOOD NIGHT WORLD.

A big shout-out to Batty Matty, one of the first people to comment on the blog (which really makes me feel good). Good luck to Ben, her 17-year-old son and be sure to check out her blog, its on my blog-roll on the right, it's called Anorexia Boy etc. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Read away....


You're afraid
Of the gaps in the tunnel you want to slip between,
The light in the tunnel you leave unseen.
I know the feeling, I know what it means.
You are not alone.

A sigh of relief
For you don't lie in a ditch by a dusty track,
Battered and bruised, creviced and cracked.
Cloaked, you return, no exterior scratch,
The damage is within.

Like always
But don't be afraid to shed tears, nor frown,
Planets to your sun, we are always around.
Grab our hands when you tumble down.
Deep down you don't want to let go.

Hold on.
In the future
The noise will numb, the pain will lessen.
When your angel, by your demon, is no longer threatened.
You've pulled through the shit but there's more where that came from.
Your engine keeps running regardless.

The box
Where you lay
Each day,
Will break
Make no mistake.
You can't slash through its sides before you're prepared.
Conserve you're strength, be patient.
You'll shatter its seal, into open air,
"One day," says your fellow patient.

Keep strong, this road's long.
We trudge together.
As I say these days,
Won't last forever.

- no notes for this one, it's pretty straightforward and there is no deep, deep meaning intended.



Saturday, 30 April 2011


SORRY, I know I promised a royal-themed poem today but I was given leave from the hospital today so was quite busy spending time at home with the fam :) I will get around to writing that ASAP. Anyway...

Introduction: Just a little'un today to keep the ball rolling. It quite represents my mood - if a friend wants to talk to me today I'd feel like a short, sharp conversation, not a long, winding rant or tear-a-thon... Enjoy and follow my blog or on twitter to get regular updates if you'd like :) it really means a lot to me. I try to keep regular content up on the blog (at least 3 times a week). That may not sound like a lot but considering this isn't just a diary of my life, it's also a creative outlet, it's a little more time-consuming.

Happy World
(And there's another picture of Yumi's to open the poem - amazing, isn't it? She's an abundance of talent.)


Be it over the hill, or far away,
End my pain, don't
You know? Please, I'm on my knees.
One way to soar, galore.
No. I won't. I'd rather be ground into

Friday, 29 April 2011

Star Spangled Spirits


Introduction: Teehee, seeing as today is the Royal Wedding and is all about Britain, I've decided to go against the tide and write a poem about America :) Don't worry, tomorrow's poem has a royal theme (I wouldn't normally upload poems two days in a row but I haven't put one up since Monday so you get an extra dose). I also have a wedding-themed short story SHOCK HORROR NOT A POEM that I might enter into a competition if I find one. If any of you have opinions on me writing a short story, or know of have any competitions, or have any feedback whatsoever, COMMENT AWAY :) !!!
Happy reading and enjoy this historical day - I'm not British in any way, shape or form but I'm in London and the nurses are in a good mood because of it so what the hell, I'm into it now!


She's a goddess, she is, with a bloody heart that oozes into the rich honey of a thousand hornets. It sinks into quicksand horizons, heavy with the stones of a hard day's shine. But be patient, my friend, there is time left on the amber clockface. Grand Central Station.

Arches of omniscient orange support a streak of molten gold. It trickles between two hummock heads, a raindrop on a window pane. The Golden Gate Bridge.

Magenta dreams dyed in heaven's hair, catch my eye, which widen, stare. The colours speak out to me, resplendent scars running deep, they seep through the onion layers of the eve. Spilling sideways, the haze is a sliding door, shutting away the nightmares with an angel standing sentry, light of life in hand. Statue of Liberty.

God is a scientist - his chromatography a wild success, nonetheless, the best he can do is paint the sky that was blue, the harsh halt of grey cliff face left untarnished by his beauty. Hoover Dam.

I watch as a cosmic treasure is smashed into smears of sapphire, ruby, rose quartz. From heights stratospheric, the remnants of sun's rays, still sizzling with daytime, fall, fall, fall. Until all rays catch a glimpse of their father sinking, drinking up all its time left on our Earth, and fan into a sulphuric, citrus swipe of sky, crying out to me in Cupid's tongue. The Liberty Bell.

Whispered wisps of azure peep through the Venetian blinds of the vivid vortex, frightened fragments of the dying day, powerless as their dear uncle falls to its knees. I squint my eyes into an awkward contortion - sure enough, there's a face, although out of proportion. A lilac arch of eye, a bent, blue nose, fuchsia coil of lip, flesh tinted with rose, a single, smouldering pupil blazing fiery red, into a birthmark of orange it slowly bled. Mount Rushmore.

The final drops of brilliant red, the wound dries up, the goddess bids farewell. An indigo iris begins to bloom in the ceiling of sky, chasing away the day with its blackthorn vines. Talons of tiger's eye claw at the chalkboard of Jupiter's navy cloak, but in vain, the pain of dusk is upon us. With a swallow, a choke, the day that once spoke becomes dumb, propelled into a teary-eyed tear in the landscape's papyrus scroll. The Grand Canyon.

Although the curtain is closing on our theatre once again, there are words left unsaid on our script left unread. The ladybird wallpaper above peels its final strips, the sand between our toes shifts, sifts, plummets into Earth's hourglass, tick, tock, quick, knock on night's door, cross the threshold. I wish 
could make me feel like a flaring Catherine wheel... Behold the palm trees, old friends by our sides, their leaves outstretched as welcome hands. A paradise poured from angel amphoras ripples before us, a windswept flag of nautical nations. Our fingers interlock, there is me, there is you, our hearts are docked in Malibu. Although we've seen the setting sun, I promise our lives have just begun.

Monday, 25 April 2011

Road Less Travelled

Hope you all had a...

This was the cover of a card I got for Easter (as you can imagine, chocolate is a strict no-no)


Introduction: Yesterday I got my first leave from the hospital in yonks and so me and my family went out to the country for a picnic and a long country walk. And (drumroll please) all the photos for this poem were taken by me in the countryside except for the clouds one :) The following poem is about the myriad of mental illnesses out there and I hope to offer you all a little hope. I'm trying to be optimistic at the moment so...

:) :) ENJOY :) :)


Continue ahead, Christ's sat-nav said,
No veering left nor right.
Diverting your route as uncommon as
Fork of fortune's bent, grey tines.

Life's flock flies as a unit,
A few straggler's left behind.
With their bird song hoarse, they wander off course
Into the back roads of mind.

Each bypass is its own,
Each track has its own traits,
The cement between the paving stones
Is set in love and hate.

My road is fenced by concrete
And sneers of spiked barbed wire.
A cinder's footsteps on my tail,
There's no turning back, you liar.

But I put up my walls
Not to keep others out,
But to see who cares and loves enough
To tear my tall walls down.

I scrawl my angel's message
With dove-feathered quill.
It catches in a passing wind,
Read my letter, take your pill:

Nails don't always fit their fingers,
Voices sometimes hate their singers,
For what they've done, where they bring them -
Into trauma's tides.

You drop your halo, you fall to your knees,
With a shiver, you beg the heavens, please,
Restore my courage, bring back these
Pieces that make me whole.

Your deepest sorrows need not be drowned.
Oh sweetest poison that you found
Will clench its fists, crudely pound
Your sparks into the earth. 

There are things in life you truly love
More than snorted snow or the heavens above.
His wick ignited by ripples of
A pond left punctured by stones.

Children of men, wet leeches latch
Onto tender, ivory skull.
They absorb the glow from behind their eyes
And beat it to a pulp.

Humans breathe, humans sleep,
In your vortex, you live warped ways.
One who cannot meet her own demands,
A gremlin-groped girl, did say:

Don't let people spoil your day,
By what they do or what they say,
It does not matter anyway,
They are only passing clouds.


- The image of roads, tracks, bypasses etc. is an extension of the idea of getting back on track from the poem dedicated to my sister 'Deirfiúr'.

- The juxtaposition of concrete and barbed wire imagery with the rural photos represents my confusion and the path I must take between my illness and recovery (from the confined barbed wire to the free countryside).

- If any of you out there are into nature (personally I'm not) then that white flower above is a Narcissus and is called Pheasant-Eye, or so said a passer-by.

- Each verse of the letter in this poem refers to a different mental issue and they follow in this order

1. Child Abuse
2. Anxiety
3. Alcohol Addiction
4. Drug Addiction
5. Depression
6. Anorexia
7. Well... The final verse was actually a little message given to Yumi by her dad, but it is relevant for all of us. We've all just got to roll with the punches and live in the moment.

Enough of the heavy stuff, here's a little humour for your Bank Holiday Monday


I took a snap of this in Asquith's Teddy Bear Shop in Henley. I recommend a visit, it's the cutest shop you'll ever visit :3

Teehee. If you like animal humour, you HAVE to watch BBC's Walk On The Wild Side, it's bloody hilarious XD

It looks like summer is finally on the way which is symbolic of many things for me (literally light at the end of the tunnel if you'll excuse the cliché). Speaking of seasons beginning, give this song a listen, utterly beautiful: Elephant Gun by Beirut

Quit your jibber-jabber, I hear you say.

Signing off and all the best,
LL x

P.S. I always love comments, so please, please, please, any feedback at all is welcome.


Saturday, 23 April 2011


Introduction: I was feeling vulnerable and was losing faith in the recovery process today and this is expressed through this brief, simplistic poem, inspired by a piece of artwork from the amazingly talented Yumi :) I know it's short but still, I hope you enjoy! There will be no Notes for this poem as a) I want to leave it open to interpretation b) there's not much to interpret anyway and c) well, I'm tired and... hahaha just kidding!

(If you're new to the blog, Yumi, Water, Sage and Mikli are friends of mine who I've assigned codenames so we can sound cool when we walkie-talkie each other... again joking, it's so they stay anonymous.)


This poem
Is going to you.

First class,
I asked
The postman to,

Send fragments of faith
In a parcel your way.
By God, little one, you deserve it.

Can you believe Yumi drew that! I thought she'd printed it off of the internet. Her talents never cease to amaze me...


Thursday, 21 April 2011

Snakes & Adders

Introduction: A friend of mine was having a difficult time a few weeks ago as they were stuck in the hospital when I was on leave and well, when life keeps getting you down, life is like a game of snakes & adders (haha! Pun!) I'm giving smaller introductions now because I feel it's better to leave it open to interpretation so I'm not shoving the s summary in your face before you've even read a book... Enjoy!


The board game.
Is it a race to the finish from the start?
From square to square to square I have to heave my heavy heart.
How I wish to skip a dozen places, to fly on fortune's dart?
But my eager eyes fail to glimpse a bullseye.

The dice.
The saboteur strikes before the game's even begun,
He weighs my dice on sunshine's side, I'm forever rolling ones,
A flashback of my purest days when I could have maybe won.
The memories slip through cracks although I try.

The counters.
In our honeypot of hues, we're each to our own
But just ants on this board, we haven't grown.
Did the farmer fall ill before our seeds were sown?
If we were settled in soil, we'd flourish.

The snakes.
Forked tongues, red-hot, they singe my skin.
No ladders, the adders, their next of kin,
Launch us spiraling down, circling drains of sinks.
We are mortal, tender, malnourished.

The players.
Their numbers vary, two to six.
My broken bones from stones and sticks
They pieced back together, do jigsaws fit?
In long games, the players deplete.

The manual.
The instructions melt into coffee stains.
The pain of my past, it surfaced again.
No words tell me how though the beast will be slain
Before it knocks me off my feet.

The box.
The dice is snatched, snakes bare their fangs.
A shower rail, a banshee hangs.
In my cherub's ears, the church bells rang.
The lid slid firmly shut.


- First of all, THIS IS MY LEAST FAVOURITE POEM TO DATE but Yumi disagrees with me...

- Well, all I'm going to say is: 

The board game is life in general.
The dice is the chances we have to take in life.
The counters are sufferers of eating disorders.
The snakes are eating disorders.
The players are carers for sufferers.
The manual is fate.
The box shutting before the game is finished is my life ending before I've fully recovered from my illness.

The line about sticks and stones came to me when S&M by Rihanna was on he radio here at a mealtime... God, Capital FM is turning my brain to mush.

The concept of this poem came to me when I was wearing a pair of Snakes & Ladders Topman socks. They're a bit loud but I like them.

Thanks for reading :) x