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Miss Von Trapp

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Scattered Petals. [Jul. 27th, 2004|11:43 am]
Miss Von Trapp
[Mood |awakeawake]
[Music |Nick Cave (still)]

Work last night was dull apart from a discussion about Zoetropes and pinhole cameras with Jui-ehh!!!

Have only slept four hours and feel fresh as a daisy...

Going out now to pick up a black/white film then off to Waterfront Writers meeting - ready to scare them all with that nasty womb poem of mine hehe.

.......................

5:22pm

Just got back from town. Hot and knackered!

VERY pleased with some of my black and white photos - might scan them at mothers later. Charlotte has asked to have a go on my cello in a few weeks time - see how much I can teach her and if she's interested in learning more I can point her in the direction of some good tutors.

Some really good stuff this afternoon at the writer's group. My womb/tomb poem went down well...as did this, which I scribbled together in about 15 mins before the group started:

Rose

I do not know why I ran.

All I remember is -

Suddenly I was running - tearing my crimson skirts on briars and thorns, my long black hair catching on branches that whipped me cruelly as I raced past.

A pause. A breath.

Hiding in an old stone doorway where I listened intently - still sure I could hear the steady, unrelenting sound of black boots on frost behind me.

I ran on.
Through twisted forest, derelict yards, wasteland overgrown with mangled machinery, the bright neon of the city - and the rush of noisy shoppers on a late winter evening.

Still I ran.
On and on...

Certain that my pursuers were close behind me - feeling their hot breath caressing the nape of my neck - high on my fear - the intoxicating scent of my blood as it pulsed violently so close beneath my pale flesh.

And then I remember how I slowed. Time slowed.

Nearing the corner gates -
On into that place with the heaps of old stones -
The angels and the ivy.

The last thing I remember -

Seeing my name cut deep into that stone -
Deep as their nails in my tender skin -
Deep as the thorny briars caught in my skirts and hair.

And then I broke apart - dissolving into nothing.
A pile of withered roses -
Old petals red and white -
Scattering into the wind.


..............................

I dreamt that!! Perhaps I should lay off the red wine for a bit??

..............................

Ok, coffee and croissants, have emails to do regarding some new poetry fest that might take place at the end of November in the Drum and stuff...(watch this space)...and have to get ready for work.

Tommorrow night I'm back down at the Art Garden Cafe - Nik Brooks is doing a storytelling night, 6:30pm til 9pm. The subject is 'Treasure Trove' so I'm expecting piratey stories, and no doubt he'll be dressed in character! Good stuff!!

Catch you all later.
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: missbumpkin
2004-07-27 04:07 pm (UTC)
Glad the writers group went well and you're not too sleepy ;)
I'd love to see the photos some time, I'm intrigued to see what you've been up to, sounds fab.
Big hugs
xxx
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[User Picture]From: missvontrapp
2004-07-27 09:27 pm (UTC)
I was a *bit* sleepy - went for a catnap between 6 and 7:30pm lol!

The photos were of Plymouth and Victoria Station and a few of Westminster Abbey before I switched to colour film - will show you soon. Fancy coming down for the storytelling today at 6pm? I'll be there from about 5:30ish - but have to go to work at 9pm as usual:))

*big hugs*
xx
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[User Picture]From: missbumpkin
2004-07-28 02:56 pm (UTC)
Ooh, pretty pictures ;)
I MUST NOT go out until I've done some work. I am a naughty slacker!
Hope you had fun tonight
hugs
xxx
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From: (Anonymous)
2004-07-29 11:03 pm (UTC)

Lovely

I read all the time and yet almost never actually post. I feel I live vicariously through you. You are what I might have been if I were still on my own. But aside from all that, your dreamt poem was lovely. I had to post just to say so. I always like your poetry, but this one spoke to me. I do like it a lot. I wish I could think of something clever to say just now, but as it usually happens with me, I cannot at precisely the moment when it is needed. But I do miss you and I must say that I enjoy reading about your life. I would take your advice and get a livejournal of my own, but I really don't think anyone would want to read it...
- Aloura
p.s. say hello to 'flatmate', if there still is one....
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From: (Anonymous)
2004-07-29 11:09 pm (UTC)

Re: Lovely

Ok, replying to my own reply. Odd. But there I am. I like your poem because I run. I don't know why, but I always do. That's it. The first line got me and hooked me...
- Aloura
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: missvontrapp
2004-07-30 10:17 am (UTC)

Re: Lovely

*hugs*

Good to hear from you...you should post more (GET AN LJ! I'LL READ IT!!)

My life seriously isn't *that* exciting though...ups and downs, and I mostly post the 'ups' because I want to remember them. There is still the 'flatmate', in his own room - but I'm moving back to my parents in a month as I can't afford to support him anymore (those 'downs' I never post about)

*more hugs*
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