Matters of the heart

Haibun Thinking: Art Week

Picture courtesy Anja  http://abstractorganizedchaosliterally.wordpress.com/about-the-author/

I am doing  everything in my power to soften around the edges. To allow the vulnerability that sits at my core to just be there. To feel without self recrimination the pain that is present. Not to judge. Not to measure. Just to allow. To witness. As I would a cloud passing overhead in  the sky above. It’s not easy. Years of religious indoctrination coupled with critical voices handed to me by others at a formative time in my life mean that this is a challenge. My own personal Everest. Like a climb up a big mountain I move through this process slowly. One step at a time. Careful to be mindful of where I place my feet. Of where I touch my heart. Higher and higher or deeper and deeper. Same thing. Tears come and tears go. Cleansing and at times surprising. I am tired. This is difficult. If I want to reach the summit then I have to persevere. Giving in has never been an option. Perhaps it should. Perhaps that which I seek is unattainable. Perhaps I push for no reason. Perhaps the pushing is the problem. When to push? When to let go?

The Angels will watch

With Hearts full of compassion

This lonely journey


Weekly Writing Challenge

Weekly Writing Challenge: Playing With Space
by Erica on April 8, 2013

For this week’s challenge, write us a poem. The poem can be about anything you choose, and in any style you choose. The catch: play around with the formatting in your verse by following the tips we’ve shared in this post, or taking a look at our Writing and Formatting Poetry guide for more in-depth instructions.

I have not written any poetry since I was much younger so I have had a wee trawl through some old journals and I came up with this, written in 1984 when I would have been 20. I remember sitting in heavy rain watching an ants nest get pretty much washed away and the subsequent activity that followed. This, I am thinking now, was kind of inspired by that incident.
The wind howls across the open moor
                      grass cowering at its command

         the towering clouds loom silently above



                      bursting with untold energies

all life is silent


and then

        the rain comes

             a sodden blanket strewn from the heavens
        splashing upon the earth
             destroying and yet creating

rivulets form
spreading outward from the disfigured raindrop

homes are destroyed and life is taken and given back

         the water seeps away and the air is fresh

                         the once monstrous clouds
                               now unladen
                         hang penitently in the sky

rebuilding begins and the 
             surface is a hive of activity

material is collected and plans reassessed
                   next time we shall be more prepared


             for now

                          the storm has passed

April is NaPoWriMo

Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. Play on Preposition with Space/ My First NaPowriMO « Fly for Icarus
  2. word space | Blue Girl Poems
  3. Wrecking the Walls | Stuphblog
  4. The Nightmares | Crumbling Words
  5. Brighter than Diamond | My Elegantly Cluttered Chamber
  6. I brought my heart | Master Of Disaster
  7. Weekly Writing Challenge: My Strength | Comfortably Numb
  8. Playing with Space | Artifacts and fictions
  9. The Evolution of a Girl | Never Stationary
  10. Weekly Writing Challenge: Playing With Space | Family Photos Food & Craft
  11. A Poem | Tony’s Texts
  12. Song Lyric Love: “Pick Your Poison” | The Kitchen Ink
  13. Kind of Endless | Kind of a Bum
  14. My story collection Platypus | Inside My Glitching Mind
  15. Naptime Stories 1 | Some Silly Alien
  16. The Diner: Weekly Writing Challenge: Playing With Space | KnowledgeKnut
  17. The Red Bay War Horse | A Pathway of Poetry
  18. In This Moment | Letters From Lotus Land
  19. Weekly Writing Challenge: A spaced-out Limerick | DCMontreal
  20. Along came the Reaper | Shreyank’s Blog
  21. Summer Memories | Laurazmusings
  22. Interruptions | Weekly Writing Challenge | The Life of A Thinker
  23. Playing With Space – Poetry | tranquilsigh
  24. So, You Want to Get Into My Pants? | Off Go the Panties
  25. NaPoWriMo | wearingmyblackness
  26. Desire | Pen Kisses Paper
  27. SoundEagle in April Love and Dove, Art and Heart, Game and Puzzle, Music and Video | SoundEagle
  28. DP Weekly Writing Challenge – Playing with Space – Poem- SHE IS ……. | hometogo232
  29. Hourly | Things I See and Know
  30. Twisted | Thin spiral notebook
  31. Strength | ourroadtohappiness
  32. Expanding (head)space | InKinetica Poetry
  33. Deceiving. | ourroadtohappiness
  34. Radio Edit | This Is My Corn
  35. SILENTLY! | soumyav
  36. No Secret | Stuck On Zero
  37. The Poetry of Code | Shiggy Enterprises
  38. Lies for Love | rarasaur
  39. A corkscrew Intention | InKinetica Poetry
  40. Weekly Writing Challenge: Playing With Space | Irregular Ventilator

Weekly writing challenge: Dystopia

My first Blog here and where to start? With a challenge methinks.

I subscribed to ‘Daily Post’ via my other Blog and having received an email about a writing challenege it made me think.

Can I write off the cuff? Photography I can do. Writing? Dystopia?
Let’s see.

Here is my effort.

Image Source Mass Effect

September 19th 2063:

I am 100 years old today. I am surprised. Very surprised. The thing  is, 46 of them don’t count. Cryogenics allowed me to be  frozen  at 54 years old in 2017.  I don’t remember the accident but the records state it is what happened. Hit by a tram. A slow tram. Messy!

So here I am now. Happy Birthday. I think.

The nurse, I can’t tell if it’s a he or a she,  has me fill out some documentation on a touch screen device that is far more advanced than the i-pads which were all the rage when I got trammed. She uses it to scan my iris for an ID signature and tells me I am now ‘Registered’

“You can move about freely now within the Citadel” she tells me.

“The Citadel?”

“All of this” she waves a hand. “You can find your way around by scanning”.

She places her wrist in front of a black screen on the wall.  A three dimensional holographic figure appears in mid air and after wishing her a good day, asks her what information she requires.

“System check” she replies and the hologram shuts down.

“See. It’s easy” she adds.

” How does that work?”

“Microchip implant technology in your wrist. You can’t live in the Citadel without it, nor can you access the Registrar”

“The registrar?”

“The holographic figure. It is the font of all knowledge here in the Citadel.”


“Yes. It is a super computer developed in the year 2040 by the Gates Foundation. It has superseded the need for man management, politics and religion. The registrar is a fully functional self maintaining ‘Generative Organism Device’  or GOD as we like to call it”


“No” she says, “Fact”

I scan my wrist.

“Good day sir. How may I assist you?”

“What is a Citadel?”

An image is projected in the air in front of me…it’s a large City…surrounded by what appears to be a dome.

“The Citadels provide accommodation, food, work and recreation for the Registered. Registered citizens can take advantage of the many levels of membership of the Citadel. You have a basic membership which allows you living space, work permits and access to FreeRec, our level 1 entertainments package.”

It turns out that there are 9 levels of membership culminating in membership of the Sanctuary. Members of the sanctuary need not work and are made up of the glitterati of this world. Actors, vj’s and game programmers have become the most celebrated people in this society as watching TV and film, playing in  gaming worlds and attending virtual raves was the popular choice of entertainment.

“What happens if I am not registered?”

“That is not possible in the Citadel”

“Does anyone live outside the Citadel?”

“Yes. The unregistered. They are anarchic, tribal and cannot access the Citadel because they have no implants”

“Where do I eat?”

“There is no need. A solution of necessary nutrients and fluids is released into your body at timed intervals via an organoprocessor in your brain. It creates a viable synthesis which allows full health to be maintained.”

“Alcohol? Drugs?”

“These are available at higher levels of membership”

“And I get there how?”

“You become famous. Opportunities for fame are presented at all levels of membership via reality TV talent shows.”


“Higher level membership”

“Where do I work?”

“You have been allocated to Energy transmission. You are required to run or cycle daily to help power our infrastructure. Good running and/or cycling will result in credits, which can be used to gain higher membership levels”

“Wow. So it really has become a Rat Race?” I thought out loud.

“There are no rats in the Citadel” said the Hologram.

I’m going to stop there because as an exercise this has already opened up a minefield inside my head. What do they believe in here? What are the unregistered people like.? How does GOD work? Are there laws?

Just a Short piece of free writing and I would need to spend the next few weeks doing research to add to just this beginning.

So that’s it from me…the first new shoots of a story…a glimpse into my idea of Dystopia.

Maybe there’ll be more.

Follow this link for other entries and check out a few below.

  1. Weekly Writing Challenge: Dystopia! (The Musical) | Eccentric and Bent
  2. My own personal pocket version of hell | Getting away
  3. DPChallenge: What Does It All Mean? | One Starving Activist
  4. An Artless Arrest | Hayley Writes
  5. Dystopian Calling | Off The Beaten Path (Being Silly in the City)
  6. A Good ‘ol, Sci-Fi, Country Song (Weekly Writing Challenge) | Anecdotal Tales
  7. The hangman | Master Of Disaster
  8. Dystopian Ways | Artifacts and fictions
  9. Dystopian Utopia | Fish Of Gold