In a box
February 12, 2013

I’m enjoying poetry at the moment – challenging to write about ideas and emotions, but truly satisfying when you manage to capture them in words. I’ve just finished editing Courting the Dark – the very first novel I wrote and which I have now reached version 4 with – that’s how many times I’ve changed it! I plan this to be the last time and in doing so, I added quite a bit more of the inner workings of my wicked teenage character Lily, who drives the plot and the narrative forward in the acerbic way only a sixteen year old could.

Having two teenage daughters myself – both with quick, brains, quick wits and even quicker tongues, I’ve been on the receiving end of the acid many times – but teenagers also have a pure and true vision of themselves and life unaffected by the ‘baggage’ older adults collect en route to enlightenment (or not). If one could distill this clarity of thought in amongst their confusion with growing up and learning how to live life, I think their vision of the world would be pure poetry, so I gave Lily a voice to make some. Here are her thoughts on her unrequited love for Matt.

 

walking legs lonely I watch you walk.

I hear you talk.

You walk and talk with others, not me.

It hurts.

I sense your presence.

I watch you listen.

You share your presence and your attention with others, not me.

It hurts.

I look into your world from the outside,closed window

Like a tramp looking through a window.

You’re inside, warm and loved.

I’m outside, cold and lonely.

It hurts.

dropped rose I put my feelings in a box –

A box full of darkness,

Because along with the love and the longing and the wishing,

There’s pain too, and pain is dark.

Pain, and anger and rejection.

They hurt.

Valentine’s Day is here, and lost love – or lack of love, will affect many people on the 14th February. Life isn’t all about romantic love, it’s about the love between all people, so smile at that stranger as they pass by, in case they have some hurts tucked away in a box too. Smiles have a way of opening doors – and boxes …

Follow me on Twitter: @Storytellerdeb

On Facebook: www.facebook.com/DebbieMartin.Author

And have a look at what’s happening next on my website : www.debbiemartin.co.uk 

A writers group is hopefully underway shortly so let me know if you’re interested in getting your ideas into words too.

When I was out walking the other day
January 22, 2013

feet 1  When I was out walking the other day,

I met a woman along the way.

I smiled and nodded and asked how she did.

She smiled and nodded and said she was good.

She told me she’d been happy and smiled in her past,

She told me she cried and been sad, but that had passed.

She told me she’d learnt how to lose and still smile –

As you don’t lose at all, it comes back after a while.

She said she’d learned how to let go;

how to grow;

how to go…

She said she’d learnt how to say no – and mean it, also.feet 2

She said she’d learnt how to receive as well as give,

she said she’d learnt to let others live, live, let live!

She said she’d learnt the measure of control,

and how she’d learnt how to love from her soul.

She said she’d learnt how ‘I love you’ meant all,

but only if said with no expectation to pall.

She now understood the seasons’ ebb and flow,

and despite  being autumn,  there was still much, much more to know.

Nothing she’d lost was ever a waste,

because the fruit of her future was still there to taste.

feet 3

I smiled and thanked her, and said I was glad, at last,

the me from the future had met the me from the past.

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My Family – a poem
January 7, 2013

One of my poems – read out as a runner up in a local competition last year – and about my own family:

My family_

I see my family in colours…

red lipsMy older daughter is red, ruby red.

She flicks the crimson tip

of a wicked tongue across each lip.

Vamp, harlot, studious geek,

‘call me ‘Scarlet’,’ she will cheek!

And yet sweet sixteen is as wholesome too

as a red summer apple that is crisp and new.

Deep aqua, and moody.ballerina

My younger daughter,

inscrutable as China, mutable as water.

Like the pile on velvet, she’s deep like a sigh,

silk to the touch when her spirits are high.

Yet again then abrasive and contrary

When the adolescent nap is brushed the wrong way.

dog   My yellow dog,

a golden blur

of tail and fur.

Lolling tongue – a smiley face,

Smiles aren’t just for the human race!

Stretched out like a long yellow rug,

‘rub my tummy, give me a hug…’

Deep brown, my husband that was.                         2 leaves

Deep as the brown of the earth

the dust to dust, the dearth.

A warm autumn brown as the leaves’ hues turn deeper,

not harvested by the seasons, but by the reaper.

But always steady and solid in our past.

Love may die, but it will always last.

colours                  And finally me? What colour do I see?

The colour blue? Reflective, sad?

Deep as the sea, it’s good and it’s bad.

I’ve watched my family grow and evolve,

childhood’s have passed, and death’s forced its resolve.

Our lives continue, ebbing, flowing, like the sea.

I can only look forward to the colours still to be.

My first novel is released on Friday 18th January 2013. Chained Melody is possibly the most unusual love story you will read this year. You can find out more about it on my website and buy/pre-order here

Debbie Martin

debbie@debbiemartin.co.uk

www.debbiemartin.co.uk

also on:

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