This week I hand you over to two lovely bloggers.
This first is the funny and talented Robyn Alana Engel, who lives in California. Robyn writes about sex, love, relationships and chocolate. Her blog is called Life by Chocolate. She also writes for the Examiner. She has a very funny series called Dating, based on adverts on dating sites which I recommend if you're up for a laugh. It's hilarious.
She interviewed me last week about my book and writing in general. Short but sweet, rich in chocolate and dripping in humour. You can read it here.
Amy McPherson recently reviewed Bottomless River over on her social commentaries/reviews site which is called, 2 Cents. You can read it here.
As always, if youre interested in a signed copy of the book, you can email me. I can offer cheaper postage options. Or directly from the publisher.
More poetry, video poetry and perhaps some posts on the writing process as it works for me.
I'm open to ideas.
The final result
I feel the shadow at my shoulder
Like an error unchangeable
The terrible result
I wish I could tell you
I knew It was coming
I always thought
There’d be more time
Like those final monologues in movies
But they cheated me
So much for having the effects in order
Rooms were untidy
There was Disorder to order
Thoughts were scattered
People to talk to
Signatures to sign
Emails to send
And food in the fridge
If I had known
I’ve just realised
I’m that person
Who once was
The name on the headstone
And is now staring back at you
Who once felt the breeze
And all the pain and elation I’ve ever felt
Is less than the dirt beneath your feet.
I’m finally here
And when I always thought
That I wouldn’t exist
If you didn’t recognise me
I’ll pass that up
For one more chance.
I’m sorry I had thoughts of giving up
Throwing it in with swollen frustrations
And that’s all it was
There is so much more
I can see that now
I can see it stretching into forever
I’m not asking for another year
Just one more day
To appreciate what I used to let drift…
Easing into a chair after a long day
The gentle caress of a favourite song
The cool wet of rain on skin
The beauty in a dark rolling sky
The bliss of satisfying a deep thirst
The comfort of a smooth functioning routine
The relief of confiding in a friend
The holistic redemption
Of a much needed hug
from someone who genuinely gives a fuck.
The intense physical flight
Of a body in ecstasy…
A sense of purpose
When it all comes together
Even though it’s not often enough.
The joy of losing control
In a laugh that doesn’t want to end.
Feeling another body beside you in bed
As an alternate reality, greets you in sleep.
Or the simple joy of lying in
Without the guilt of having to get up.
In a moment, things are perfect
And you feel it
To your core.
These are the moments to miss
The career and the bank account
Won’t mean a thing.
I’m fading fast
And I wish had wisdom for you
And it’s there
But I can’t remember it right now
I’m sorry for that too
But I cannot be anything else
Other than dissipating energy
Created by the memory of others
There is nothing more to miss
I am already gone.
|Behind The mask by selimaksan @ istockphoto.com|
Let me believe
When they offer you a glimpse into fantasy
It’s a very alluring proposition
One which you are eager to pursue
As we want to believe
Because belief is tantalising
Belief is security
Belief is the possibility of dreams made tangible.
Yet conviction is security
And we can hardly fathom
That we could be deceived…
That an individual
Would go to so much effort
To present an illusion.
And yet some people
Are not us
And we are hurt
In the knowledge
That greed can be manifested
More than dreams.
So don’t ask us to sing the national anthem
When some don’t rejoice at all
The chorus is uneven.
We are not unified
|Copyright Lylia Corneli|
A new video poem, The Final Result.
It will all be okay
On the day
As long as I don’t have to think.
Dude goes up
Dude goes down
That’s what I’m talking about
It doesn’t have to make sense
But sometimes I need it easy.
It counteracts the barely hidden chaos
That keeps me turning at night
And trudging through the day.
So give me a big old skateboard
And a nice long straight path
Without the ramp
And I’ll make my own way.
A new video poem, This tiny fortune.