Warning Lights

Sometimes I like the silence, listening to the world around me breathe,

The soft murmurs of electricity behind the cold walls,

The bang of the radiators as the temperature drops too low.

I like listening to the clock, moving almost too fast for comfort, contemplating how much time I have lost in this moment.

I like hearing the wind brush through the trees.

It puts me at ease knowing that that they have one another; the world would be a lonely place if we didn’t view nature as alive.

I like the passing of a car or two in front of the house; it lets me know that there are others out there when I feel most alone.

Sometimes I close my eyes and try to recall as many wonderful things as possible.

In times where the present day proves too much to handle, memories always acts as an old friend holding my hands through the storm.

I like the fact that I can hear my thoughts, that there will always be a voice during darkness and seeing your name light up my phone reminds me there are people out there who care.

When the world begins to rotate with unstable madness I like to sink to the earths core.

Pulling a blanket of warmth around me, blocking out the stress tornados tumbling through the walls of my mind,

Sometimes I stay silent to unwind.

I talk too much. My mouth has long forgotten what silence tastes like.

Sometimes I don’t want to talk about my problems, not because swallowing them are any easier, but because facing my accomplishments are long overdue.

The outer shell of my body often struggles to stay still, rattling pulses of turmoil under my skin until slowly I begin to crack.

The doctors call it my warning lights, a lighthouse telling my soul at sea that depression has come to visit.

So I go silent.

I like the silence, listening to the world around me breathe.

Cardboard Surfboards

There was a field by my old house; we called it the green,

There were 3 large hills and for any child it was a picture perfect scene,

The days I remember the most was when we played hide and seek,

Sam and me ran straight for the Green and I spotted something I never expected to see,

There were blue berry bushes everywhere, enough to fill our sweaters 10 times over,

Mums face when she saw the state of my clothes but that still didn’t stop us,

And I remember the day Simone’s mom was moving out and let us play with some left over boxes,

We tore the cardboard into surfboards, picked the biggest hill on the green and ran straight for the top of it,

It had rained the night before, so this was gonna be messy,

“It will make sliding down that much easier though” was how Sam convinced me into it,

I balanced my cardboard surfboard on the edge and refused to look down,

What’s the worst that could happen? Mom can’t ship me to India now,

And so I skied the hills length on a sheet of flimsy card,

It was stupid, reckless even, but I had never laughed so hard.

As my screams shifted to joy I thought, nothing could beat this.

The green was everything to us; I dunno what we’d do without it.

The new playground was cool, but the green would always remain the best.

Could have skied the hills until the sun began to set.

A few years later I learnt to ride my bike on the very same grass,

The green was the only place I felt safe because the fields stopped me rolling too fast,

And not long later, I started my first dance academy,

Tap, ballet, jazz and gymnastics,

And Sam was trying to teach me all the moves, though she secretly didn’t have a clue,

She claimed to be an ex-gymnastics champion at 10 you see, that’s how she knew everything I was about to do,

And we would have cartwheeled on the green all day, but mum soon called me in,

She laid dinner on the table and just as I was about to tuck in…

“They’re taking the green down you know” she mumbled and watched my smile fall,

They were taking down our hills, our blue berry bushes and fields; they were taking it all,

The night before work was due to start, mum let us stay out extra late,

Looked like every kid in the area had the same idea, they were all over the place.

We all lay on memorable spots on the green, looking up at the stars appreciating every moment of this,

Sharing stories about our adventures and regretting the many other things we could have done,

Feeling sunrise creep closer and closer, knowing that in a few days this would all be gone.

To everyone else it was just a bit of Green, for every child in that district of Selly Oak it was everything.

And now stands a development of new state of the art houses,

They’re beautiful, but nothing compared to what was torn down in the early 2000s

Went to visit it the other day, saw they took down our favourite tree,

We carved our names in the trunk. Guess there’s nothing left of little Sam and little me.

My ode to Gossip Girl...

I wanna be a New Yorker.

I wanna live in a tall glass tower, where the wallpaper is covered in textures flowers and there’s not only bathrooms but a room dedicated to one big shower.

I wanna be Queen B. I wanna prance around my expensive private school with everyone worshipping me. I wanna get over heartbreaks in the company of my maid watching re-runs of Glee. I wanna own the shops on 34^th street.

I want a man as complex as Chuck Bass, the air to the Empire and settles for nothing less than 5 class. I want to eat in the most expensive joints and watch the celebrities pass, I want a pair of Chanel jeans just for the logo on my ass.

I wanna throw parties just because I can, fly to Paris for a custom made dress and grab a pair of heels from Milan. I want a stylist like Gok-Wan, be admired by the press on the arm of my Forbes list man.

I wanna feature on a blog where the city relishes on my drama, I want a loyal best friend and clique acting as human armour. I want to own a yacht, waiting for me to take it out on the harbour and twiddle my thumbs about who’s the lucky father.

But I’ve gotta admit, if this lifestyle is as exhausting to live as this poem is to write, then I wanna stay in Birmingham, snuggled up with my cats every night. I’d maybe trade a moment to sparkle in the limelight but at the end of the day I think my life is just fine.

I like my deep green garden and my hilly view and I adore my knock-off unfashionably comfortable ankle boots.

I like my quant welcoming room and my quiet street, not that I’d say no to a day shopping with the elite.

I like how my life isn’t sprawled online for the world to see,

You know…I’m happy being me.

Yesterday Morning...

The morning air is different, it's virgin, has a sense of freshness to it. It's a pity it wasn't until my last morning I actually felt like I was in Majorca. Leaving the world to their dreams as I catch the sunrise on the sand. 

Watching it float above the ocean. 

Listening to the soft whispers of the sea. 

Breathing in my surrounding atmosphere tasting salt with a hint of adventure.

I gaze up towards the mountains on my left and wonder about the many missed walks I could have taken. This place is wonderfully beautiful and I've seen so little of it. The sky is painted blue with long forgotten evenings, a plane above me inking a white trail, reminding me that my flight is in less than 24 hours now. My heart gasps in a sudden plea for more time. There's so much more I wish I could have done, though I guess this only feeds my desire for travel. I sit and list the many places I have yet to see and smile subtly at my first holiday alone (well without any parent or guardian).

I was trusted to come back in one piece and I return in two. One girl who has seen so much and one who's seeking is not yet through.

Fuzzy Socks and Wrap-Around scarves

Breathe in the crisp air,
August quickly fades away,
Welcoming cold days.

Numb fingers wrapped,
Around coffee scented mugs,
Many books to read.

Warm, knitted jumpers,
Fuzzy socks, wrap-around scarves,
Goodbye summer days.

Him

He had the stars on his back,

One thousand suns, yet he still saw himself as ordinary.

Eyes shielded by lowered lids, masking bright blue brilliance, buried treasure in the sunlit sea,

lips parted by thought, dribbling uniquely crafted prose, pondering the once dull air,

and hands held high with hope, carrying a beacon of imagination for those who claim no cares.

A mind moulded with memories and mannerisms of a mindless child,

Welcome to weapons of wonderment, standing fearless before long anticipating audiences,

Laughing playfully as they linger upon every hand picked word.

Baring his soul before the masses, each admirer taking home stories of a man who was born to write,

Four-twenty and forever a seasick soul fishing for poems under a starburst sky.

Smile

"Smile though your heart is aching

Smile even though it's breaking."

                                                  ~ Charlie Chaplin


Being surrounded by so many talented people can be both a blessing and a curse. No matter how considerate or humble a person is, the pain of not being good enough will always hurt just as much as it did the first time. 

It is so hard not to blame individuals who were chosen over you. If you walk into a friendship group made up of those working the same field as you, then you need to prepare yourself for these situations. You need to remind yourself each and every day that you are all different, you are all talented in your own right and no competition, title, fan club, organisation or opinion can take that away from you.

There will come a time where you need to take your turn in the back seat whilst they venture out under the super trouper's rage. You will need to make sacrifices, you will need to be considerate and you will need to remember that your success does not define you. And hopefully one day they will do the same for you. 

When they gain an opportunity over you, remind yourself they have the right to feel proud of themselves too, just like you would. And as a friend you should feel proud of them, because if the roles were reversed, remind yourself of how much you would want them to support you with your achievements. 

Smiling even though your heart is aching is one of the hardest things to do, but remind yourself that there is no point in crying, smiling makes life more worthwhile. As some famously talented guy once said.