28 January 2009

The Pirate Song

Okay, so I get these "Very Short List" emails every day about cool stuff people stumble upon. Today, so ironic since AbigailX spent all day bragging about the awesome Beatles tribute thing she went to last night, I got some lost TV episode from England featuring George Harrison.

The Pirate Song was an episode of Eric Idle’s BBC series Rutland Weekend Television. It expresses his wish to be a pirate, sung to the tune of "My Sweet Lord".

Definatly odd, but in a good way!

23 January 2009


What is life? Is it something we all must get through, the ‘ticket’ to heaven or hell? A collection of moments preserved in a scrapbook? The faces of those who surround us our whole lives and faces of those who are there only a second in the hour of our lives?

Or is it much more than all of that put together? When you consider the people in your life, the thing in the forefront of your mind probably isn’t how much they care about you – it’s how much you enjoy having them in your life; how much they keep your grounded to reality and help you through the rough patches. Amazingly fortunate are those who, without realizing it, have such an enormous support base that can help them even the darkest of times.

And, even though most won’t admit it, we all have our own “Dark Age” throughout life’s journey. People most special in our lives leave, whether by their own means or that of fate and time; we get hurt, emotionally and physically; time passes; we all age. Yes, those are negative things that sometimes make it hard to stumble out of the comfort of a warm bed and deceiving dreams, but isn’t it a mark of inner strength for those who get up anyways?

Though it might not feel like it, things always get better. Through the most dismal of times and situations, haven’t we all risen from the ashes to proclaim that the fight’s not over just yet? Risen to shout to the heavens that, darn it, we’re here and we’re here to stay? They say the first step is admitting you need help, but I think it truly is the moment when you’re strong enough to realize it on your own. No outside influences, no person whispering in your ear – the moment when only you chose your destiny.

The strongest person in the world has weaknesses, and it is human nature to doubt this. For, don’t we all think the rich and wealthy have no means of destruction? That the only ones who are vulnerable are those such as ourselves, the ones that are all jumbled together and given the title “normal”?

It’s simply not true.

No matter where you come from, who you are, you have the strength to move anything in your path – literally and not. Physically, emotionally and mentally.

You are loved more than you know. When you think the world has turned it’s back on you, look again – you’re wrong, for I will always be here for you.

19 January 2009


the words dash
across the page
seemingly without me

fears all flee
contentment sets in,
the story begins

words flow through
fingers now ache
from thing unspoken

the sky darkens,
the rain starts,
the kettle whistles

story starts forming
characters become real
room starts spinning

Written spur-of-the-moment when I was bored in the computer lab. What do you Screamers think?

17 January 2009

An Impossible Life

Today is impossible
I can not get by
I see you every where I go
And I am scared

Living without you
Is the hardest thing
I’ll ever do

I don’t know what to do,
Where to go,
To escape from
Everything that reminds me of you

I see someone walking
Is it you?
Or those shoes you always wore…
They whisper memories from their spot near me

I turn around
Startled by a sudden burst
Of our song on the radio
I imagine you are with me

I remember that horrible night
The words spoken and not
An apology on my tongue
That never got out

I rush to the phone
Punching in the familiar numbers
Will you answer?
My heart leaps in terror

You do!
“Hello?” from that velvet voice
I answer back,
Voice quiet and meek

“I’m sorry” I whisper
Tears falling for years.
“I was stupid, and

You reassure me,
Get in the car.
Moments later,
You’re with me

Anyone had this happen to them before? And, if so, how did you cope? Did they come back, did you crumble, would you even admit you were stupid and selfish?

I wrote this originally for a novel I wanted to write using regular means and poetry infused within it. Hm...reading it over again makes me want to go write. Maybe I shall.

14 January 2009


I fight through the trees
That threaten me.
I fight through my fears
That taunt me.
All to find

I run through the forest,
The forest of my fears,
To seek the hidden truths.
I see your face in my mind.
You’re calling out:
In fear?
In joy?
I can not tell.

In my forest,
My forest of fears,
Are you scared too?



The latest in my series of old poems.
Question: How do you deal with the things in life that scare you the most? ( things such as phobias, the future, etc. )

13 January 2009

Question Time!

1.Send me a comment saying ‘interview me’.
2.I will then comment back five questions that I choose.
3.You can then answer them on your blog.
4.You should also post these rules along with an offer to interview anyone else who emails you or comments that they want to be interviewed.

Stumbled across this, and would really enjoy interviewing anyone who asked! We would do it through comments, of course, but I think it would be amazing and cool. Get to know our fellow bloggers a bit more, maybe.

12 January 2009

Onegai Shimasu [[Please Do It - For Me]]

The silence's glass surface breaks
As the scream pierces it.
When the sound dies,
So do I.

Frustration, sadness,anger...
They have welled up inside me
Wanting to get out

I scream again,feeling the tears fall
I hold myself together
As I slowly fall apart

Seconds ago I felt your touch
Now hundred years later I cry
"Come back!" I want to yell
But you've already left

"Onegai Shimasu," still on my tongue
I know you will not hear
But I whisper it anyhow.


“The dream…It is complex you see…” she mumbles.
“Not as much as you are,” he chuckles
“Yes, even more so.” She is reluctant, but she tells him.

The dreams that are her new reality
The world she’s built in her mind.
The tall, gothic buildings,
The overpowering trees.
A forest of her fears, and her fears alone
Not meant for him to see

But he does.
He sees the things she hides,
And the one thing she wanted to keep hidden

Her feelings.
She hides her head as she tells her tale.
“And then, they kissed.”
Her voice holds quiet longing.

But that is all it is:
Longing that can never be cured,
Unless dreams become reality.

It occured to me ( via the wonderful Michael Holloway ) that I've neglected to put any poetry of mine on here yet. Must fix that, musn't we? So, here's the first installment with more to come soon!

01 January 2009

Hello 2oo9

The holidays were always the loneliest for her. No school, hardly seeing anyone, being cooped up in the house…she was happy, yes, but it was boring. And maddening.

Especially when she considered the alternative to how she was spending New Year’s. Yes, ring in the new year with board games and left-over-from-Christmas sweets when you could be at a party. Of course, though, she would have been at a party, if only she’d been invited. Which she wasn’t. To any party.

She sits on her bed, sighing in the general direction of the ceiling. “Why?” she mumbles, “Why is everyone having fun, and somehow they all forgot about me?”

She knows that’s not entirely true. There was one who remembered her. One that would have her there in a heartbeat if possible. Only problem being that his mother said “No girls.”

Another sigh. Another firework explodes outside. Another laugh from her baby brother.

Goodbye 2oo8, hello 2oo9.