My Poems Inspired by Books and Films

Poems inspired by books and films, I have put into brackets whether it was the book or film which moved me as some of these are both:

 

One Day (book)

In the space between us, there’s only rain, and the words we should 

have said

but never could,

Now it is pouring and we can not take it anyway more.

This distance between us, I can’t believe us.

I thought soul mates stood up for each other,

I thought soul mates did not have to be lovers,

I thought I saw soul mates in me and you.

One day, in me and you.

 

Hunger Games, Mokingjay (Book)

Our souls are shaking,

from the heartache we’ve seen,

our own hearts are already broken,

and we know we’ll never be free

and never truly be home.

Flames are catching and all consuming,

our sick and twisted fate,

the shadows between a reality

and lies, are captured in our 

unforgiving minds.

You can see the nightmare behind our eyes.

But your hunger for power,

only makes us stronger

and people will stand by me.

the mokingjay , for all to see.

 

Wicca Series by Cate Tiernan

Who am I,

when I find my families is a lie,

Who am I,

when powers I never knew I had arise,

Who am I,

to say, I’ll use them for good and not bad,

with my heritage it seems I won’t have a choice,

and where one does lay, the other does follow,

in infinite greys between dark and light,

it is hard to distinguish who is wrong and who is right,

and who to put my trust in,

to guide and teach me along my way.

Who am I,

I hardly know the strength I possess,

 and how to control my magic 

and the darkness, I confess.

Who am I.

Will I be able to fight my fears,

with talents I have learned in months not years.

Who am I.

I hear people say different things,

but I will not let those thoughts in, my life has changed,

but this is the path I was meant to travel.

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Poetry

Yes, yes, I know. Neglected the internet, especially this blog… you’d think I would have more to write about but I would be lying if I wrote a lot down. I have kept up writing though and that’s what I would like to explain today. I am inspired by many things, mostly feelings and how people react to different situations. Books, films and songs inspire me too.

I recently read Tess of the d’Ubervilles, it was quite a dark book, signs pointing toward her dark fate. The book really got me thinking…

The following is not about Tess but portrays the darkness of Tess and how if she did anything differently, her fate would not change;

‘Look at them now, look at them now, he’s lost it,

she’s looking down, looking down, she’s lost him,

you can see the terror in her eyes,

as his hands tighten,

the glint in those eyes that’s dimmed,

as she gave up fighting.

Before her last breath he lets go,

he takes joy in killing her in pieces,

he may love her, but not in the right way,

and she’ll love him, in an un-heathly and grim way.

They both want to step away,

lose themselves but not each other,

turn it around and drop any blame,

instead of guns loaded and drop to cover.

Let’s face it now, face it now, he’s lost it,

to bad thoughts and drinking around town,

she’ll get her just deserves, for these bad thoughts she thinks she’s heard,

she’s useless and she never listens, when he just says he needs help.

Well look at them now, at them now, she’s lost him,

is she meant to carry on, not knowing, how to help him along,

they’ve lost it.’

 

It has been bitterly cold lately and it is rare that I write a happy or hopeful poem, it is normally like the above. So next is a poem for the hope of Spring;

‘Fields of sunny sky escaping,

from the grey fading, away,

birds fluttering around the steeple,

glad to see the rays of day.

First signs of Spring,

although silent under the echo of chill that fills the air,

winter still clinging to the earth,

lightly frosted and bare.

The only hints of changing season,

seen in tiny green shoots,

the subtle and majestic growth of a snowdrop,

inclined in a droop.

As if in personification of winter, bowing and biding its goodbye,

it has completed its course,

and passes through to Spring in a warming sigh.’

 

The next is based on a odd relationship with an imaginary friend, how for people he is only there when needed and constantly forgotten…

‘He drinks to forget,

to drown his soul,

but I’ll sit here every night next to his bar stool,

I’m scared that I’ll let him down,

like I know others have done,

but I won’t go, I would never leave him drinking alone.

Although I don’t owe him anything, I take my anesthetic with a sloppy grin,

I’m just a fill-in, for your filling,

yet I’ll lye back and not feel a thing.

Because you don’t care about me,

though you like my company,

and I won’t care about you too,

I know I shouldn’t and this is the way it is,

sitting next to your bar stool.’

 

So yeah, there is it… I haven’t changed since I have last wrote, I still hate myself and I still have no motivation to change it…

I wish I could perform all of my poems and songs like Regina Spektor and not give a damn about what others think of me.

Firstly I’d need to actually be able to play an instrument…

ugh I’m rambling thoughts again… in fact here are my musings on ‘beauty’

‘Can those who are never going to be beautiful capture beauty in a poem, in a work of art?

Are they blind to beauty or do they see it best?

For they know the least of what beauty does,

yet surely they can gaze upon beauty,

a sunset a-like and achieve the knowledge that beauty truly means happiness on all who gaze upon it.

How unhappy they must be to know it,

yet do they think of the feelings of the sun and a-like, see it from their point of view as a burden?

To be gazed upon in the admiring fashion, for every day to have to live up to the last,

and the sun and a-like competing to capture the most purest of beauty only to have to try each day to maintain such,

otherwise lose its reputation and the eyes which had once gazed upon the sun and a-like.

Maybe it is only those that can find beauty where there is none, that hold the true key and knowledge of beauty itself.’

 

 

 

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Shadow in the Desert

I’m going into the desert,

I’ll find that waterhole and leap,

and leap.

Wash over the water to a new beginning.

That one leap and now I feel like I can take on anything,

tread back through the desert,

on just a handful of water,

and I’ll spit on those who say I can’t,

because I’ve seen I can in my reflection.

All my decisions have lead up to this,

now I realise there’s no right or wrong path,

only the one I have chosen,

for this is the one I must walk.

I don’t have much control,

but it keeps life exciting,

sure sometimes I feel weak when the sun blazes down,

but I’ll get back up,

and up again.

I’ll cradle any rain as when I cry only happy tears fall,

a smile that’s hid much and the surfacing one so much stronger.

Turning over a mind that’s been in the dark and cold,

open up to the desert and let in the light,

even taking in sun rays that normally bring me down.

I have my mind and I have different thoughts,

thoughts I can now advocate for myself.

I knew the journey would be worth the wait,

water surrounded by years of sand,

savior hold my hand,

walk me through, back and round again.

Now my shadow is my friend.

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Memories masked in snow and reading

I better tell you my tale of my Christmas…if I can remember much, not because I was drunk, no I only had one glass of wine.

I opened my presents from the parents, the only thing I did not know I would receive was a tiger hot water bottle case, very cute, tigers are my favourite animal. I loved it all, mostly DVD’s, and the shoes that claim ‘each step you take walks you to fitness’ or something like that, it’s like having a see-saw on each shoe; I like it.

We go across the road to my auntie’s house to eat lunch, full roast, nothing better than Christmas food! Full plate devoured and room in my stomach for pudding. However, first we opened our presents from others, sisters and auntie, while I wore two orange paper cracker hats but they kept falling off when I’d automatically push my hair back as it tickled the front of my hair.

My favourite part of the day came next, sledging! The snow after 9 days at the time still had not melted away, so we went to the field round the corner, which had a sufficient and safe slope. The best place to travel down was the tractor tracks, just wide enough for the sledge. I thought I would be scared. Only excitement and thrill run through my veins as I speedily flew down, I soon realised how much control I would need to not swerve into the snow banks, I really leaned to get the most out of the sledge and become the one who travelled the furthest. I don’t normally like to brag but I loved sledging and I was good. I want to become a bobsleigh-er or something! One funny go, me and my niece went down the slope together, of course with combined weight we went faster and we were shouting out instructions to lean left, then right, then middle. We still swerved and somehow Alisha who was in front of me fell off, then ran after me and jumped on the back; being dragged down the hill. She then gave up being snow-grazed and I turned to see her arms stretched out towards me, her head down in the snow. A very funny sight indeed.  

It was fun, like the feeling you get on a rollercoaster, pure exhilaration. One of the best moments in my life. Once back inside, I found I had ice stuck all over me melting in the living room heat, it all soaked in my clothes so I put on my new present from my sister. A onesie. The adult version of a baby grow. Striped black and yellow sleeves and the rest black, with a logo-like bee saying ‘buzz off!’ Something I would say to anyone disturbing my sleep. So I stayed in this warm, ate dinner and watched the kids play with their new toys.

When my sister’s and their family went, it was not long after I walked carefully back over the road, not in a onesie by the way! I felt so tired I went straight to bed.

The next day, went over my auntie’s again for lunch, the right side of my teeth ached, so I stayed there most of the day and watched movies. ‘The Ant Bully’ then ‘Over the Hedge’ the funniest of them all; the squirrel is so funny! Finally ‘Enchanted’ I love the music in this film. Back over home I curled up in bed with my new favourite book ‘White Oleander’ I have seen the film, I felt so poignant, inspired, the book is even better. I’m only half way through it yet but already I have a poem in the works, a little sneak peek; ‘No more the days of drunken wine tasting, on the picnic blanket of lovers embracing’. I like writing it soothes the mind, even if it is not well written.

Today, actually now I look at the time yesterday, was good as well. Reading mostly. My sister and auntie came over our house for tea. My sister’s fiance fell asleep, I told her to put squirty cream over his face, instead she wrote ‘TIT’ across his forehead. Which when he woke up all bewildered put me into hysterics! We kept trying to put the word ‘tit’ in our sentences. Then he called me a ‘tit’ that’s when I complained back, ‘no I’m not you’re the one with it wrote on your head! You should look in the mirror you tit!’ I’m glad my sister put that word on as he could easily read it in the mirror. Very funny.

So here I am again past midnight writing up my strange times away from here, if you do get the chance to, read White Oleander…please do!

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