Broken Angel

He ripped you from the sky and broke your wings. Your not meant for this world. In time you will heal and soar again.


-- Post From My iPhone

A Letter From A Dead Woman

It's been way too long since I have posted anything. My manic life is getting the better of me. I need to have more balance and write more. I feel like I'm in the desert. Here is my attempt to get back. This story needs work but it's a start:

To Whomever Finds This,

I think I should start by telling you a bit about myself. My name is Willow Carter. Yes I am victim of a hippy single mother. I never met my father but I have been informed he was an older man and was as my mother described it, an inappropriate relationship. Sorry. I’m getting a little sidetracked. It is taking a lot to write this and a long time for me to be able to, but I knew that I couldn’t move on without leaving something behind. I will try to be as unbiased as possible. So I guess I had better start from the beginning. Oh wait, before that I should mention an important piece of information, in fact it is the most important part of this. I died.

Growing up with a hippy mother (she re-named herself Star) it was difficult to rebel. The only way I could rebel was to be responsible and basically the mother. I did the cooking and cleaning, paid the bills and worked hard even before I was old enough to leave school. It sounds so boring but I had to be. I guess that’s why at 26 I felt so old. I had a house, a steady job as a P.A. to the Managing Director of a recruitment company, a fiancée and still made sure my mother’s bills were paid. I was old before my time. My heart was wearing and wrinkled from the passing years that happened in a blink. I had worn out my heart and shelved my dreams. Dust settled and I felt lost. That’s when I decided I had had enough. I was through with this life. I decided to create a new life. I pulled my suitcase off the top of the wardrobe and began to pile my clothes in as if Jason my fiancée was about to walk in at any moment. Once I had emptied the contents of the wardrobe I looked at what was left. Jason had only a couple of suits and a few shirts. The rest was scruffy well-worn jeans and t-shirts that were in his draws on the other side of the room. I had taken over the wardrobe. I had taken over Jason’s life. I moved myself into his heart and his home and he loved it. Could I really radically alter his life and then walk out and leave him with nothing but two suits and a few shirts hanging in an antique wardrobe? I began to cry at the feeling of being torn and I hurriedly put everything back into the wardrobe then shoved the suitcase back on top. Looking at my watch I realised I was late for work. It didn’t seem to matter when I was running away but now. I picked up my briefcase, keys and mobile and dashed for the door. Just as my feet reached the bottom of the stairs the phone rang. I lingered for a second and then headed to the door. As I opened it I looked back at the phone all lit up and ringing loudly. I went over and picked up the phone.

“Hello.”
“Honey. I’m so glad I caught you.” My mother’s shaky voice was familiar to me.
“What now? I’m late for work.” My annoyance was far from hidden to her but I had been playing this game since I was 9.

Some hippy mothers just loved tie-dyed clothes, free love and no rules for their children. My hippy mother loved all those things but loved alcohol more. She had been drinking for as long as I can remember, but she was bad from when I was about 9. Or maybe I just remember it more from that age. The first time it was obvious to me was when I was at my first sleep over. My mother would have let me go years before but being a shy and fearful child I didn’t feel confident enough till then. I had been there for about 4 hours when a game of truth or dare had begun. They asked me who I fancied in the school. I couldn’t bring myself to answer because it happened to be the girl’s older brother whose house we were staying in. They said if I didn’t answer my dare would be to run around the garden naked. Pack mentality had kicked in and I felt under pressure so I lied. I said I fancied Paul Rudder. Now Paul was, as I then would have described him as, a freak, but in actual fact he was more like a dreamer. His head was always in books and I think I heard it paid off, as now he is a writer who drives a Bentley. At the time though he was the first name that popped into my head and probably the worst. They all started to make fun of me. After an hour of it I was on the verge of tears and desperate to leave. I phoned my mother to come and get me but she was drunk. I was crying at this point. So I just left. I was a mile down the road when I saw my mum’s car. I was so happy and she pulled over to let me in. It was a big mistake. She could hardly see and kept babbling about how she was going to stop drinking and that life would be great and she was going to make me brownies when I got home. Why did she only talk about quitting drinking when she was drunk? Anyway, after swerving in and out of the other lane for most of the journey we were 5 minutes from home. I remember feeling relieved and then she turned left onto a one-way street. That moment would change everything. She started to scream when she saw all the cars bearing down on her then she let go of the wheel. I grabbed the steering wheel and we veered off to the right and ploughed into a fence. Thankfully we were not too bad and no-one else was injured but my mum damaged her back. Not enough to stop her from doing what she wanted but just enough to not have to work. Her drinking became known as taking her medicine and I was given a heavy helping of guilt ever since. It ensured that when my mother called I had to answer.

“Don’t be like that honey. My back is really playing up today. I need you to pick me up some shopping and I’m short some medicine.”
“I cant. I will pick it up after work and drop it round.”
“Thanks honey. Could you at least drop me some medicine round now? The pain is so bad and I could really do with it being eased.”
“I can’t and you shouldn’t be drinking anyway.”
“This week has been tough and I just need to get me over the hump.”
“Fine.”

I knew that buying her booze was not helping but if I didn’t she would start drinking what was in her house like cough medicine and I was afraid she would end up drinking cleaning fluid. The thought of maybe just letting her crossed my mind but I couldn’t. As I dashed out the door I made a quick call to the office to my boss to explain I will be a little late. Of course I didn’t say I was enabling my mother’s alcoholism, I can’t remember now but I think it was something like my alarm didn’t go off. I hopped in my car and nipped to the local shop. You think I would be used to it but I was so embarrassed buying vodka at 8:30am. I went to my mother’s house and she was waiting by the door. Before I had even gotten out of the car she was by my window knocking on the glass while shaking. Her eyes were so sunken and dark that she looked like she was already dead. I rolled down the window and handed her the bottle. Without a word she unscrewed it and chugged. The strong smell stung my nostrils and I could only imagine what it was doing to what was left of her liver. Her poor organs were drowning in vodka. She came up for air, wiped her mouth on the back of her filthy dressing gown and smiled.

“Thanks love. That has really helped. This will be my last bottle of medicine. I’m quitting after this. How about you come over for tea tomorrow and I will cook? You should bring that fella of yours, Justin.”
“His name is Jason. Maybe. We’ll see.” Yeah right. She has never cooked me a meal and she wont start tomorrow.

I rolled up the window and drove off leaving her to walk inside clutching her bottle like it was a newborn baby. The whole way to work I was livid that once again I was put in that position and why she could never be a normal mother. Away with my thoughts I was on autopilot. I never noticed that I turned right when I should have turned left. The sound of horns honking woke me from my thoughts and I realised I was the wrong way on a one-way street and cars were bearing down on me. I panicked and swerved to the right. Just before I slammed into the fence I was furious with myself as I said, “Not like my mother”.

From this point I’m not entirely sure what happened. I can tell you what I remember but officially they tell me that the ambulance got to me quickly and worked on me at the scene. They say I died for approximately 6 minutes but then I came back (my words, not theirs). They sent me to hospital where I underwent nearly a year of successful but very painful physical therapy to get me to this point. My version however is very different.

I lay on the side of the road aware that the paramedics were working on me and very aware that this man was unbuttoning my blouse. It’s strange really. I knew I was dying but the fact that a man was unbuttoning my blouse to see the wound bothered me. Not for long though. It felt like darkness was closing in on me. Not in a visual way but in the feeling of being claustrophobic. I could hear this noise in my ears like a combination of nails on a calk board and the muffled sounds you hear when you are under water. It was so uncomfortable and the pain in my left hand, left leg and chest didn’t seam so painful anymore. I knew I was dying. It felt like I was being ripped at the seams. Then it didn’t hurt anymore. There was no sound and I felt like I was floating. I’m not a religious person, I didn’t see a white light, there was no loved one to meet me, and I didn’t hear a voice beckoning me. I just knew I was dead and I had a choice. Let this be it or return. I did entertain the thought of letting go, even though I didn’t know if there was anything to grab hold of on the other side. I hated this merry dance I had lived and even thought I was considered young I was weary. I was ready to rest. I guess it is for selfish reasons I wanted to go and for selfish reasons I wanted to stay. I wish I could say that the love of Jason is what brought me back, but honestly I didn’t think about him. I guess I figured he would be all right, at least I hadn’t run out on him. What brought me back was something my mother had said. When I was 15. It had all been too much and my mother had tried to commit suicide but I had found her. I rang the ambulance. When they arrived she had managed to consume a couple hundred pills and a full bottle of vodka with a gin bottle chaser. When she saw them and right before she blacked out she said she should have drowned me as a baby, she knew that my life would never mean anything. I guess the real reason I came back was I didn’t want to prove her right. I wanted to get to the end of my life knowing it had meant something. Not just to my fiancée, but to me.

I know it sounds very dramatic and I don’t know if it is real or if that was a dream I had when in the hospital. To be honest it’s irrelevant. I wish I could tell you that two years on my life is amazing. That it has all been different. That I skip through fields of flowers, that I have found a job I love, and that my mother stopped drinking. I can’t. I’m actually writing this before I go and put on a black suit to attend my mother’s funeral. Her organs waited patiently for a life raft that never came. They couldn’t hang on. Honestly I’m a little relieved. I know it sounds bad but I am. So what has changed? I suppose my attitude for one. I am not an old woman trapped in a young woman’s body. I am a woman who was trapped trying to find my way out of the maze. At least I’m trying. I get married in a month, finally. We have only been engaged for 4 years. The most important piece of information is…
… I’m pregnant. I just did the test. Don’t worry I washed my hands. I haven’t told Jason yet. I don’t think my mother’s funeral is the best time. At least I don’t have to buy him a wedding gift now. All I do know is that I want things to be different for my child. I want to be different. I know that none of this will touch my child’s life. All they will know is love, home cooked meals and I will always pick them up and drive them home safely when a sleepover has gone wrong. I will be leaving this letter in the grave with my mother. If you find it I hope that you are living the life you always wanted. I am laying to rest the old me and instead I’m picking up hope for the future. Something I’ve never had till now.

Live life well.
Regards,
Willow.


-- Post From My iPhone

Home Sour Home

I haven't posed anything for ages but I have been working on some stuff through the creative writing group I go to. I'm going to get back into posting them when I return from New York. Till then here is one of them. It was written after someone was watching the house and it reminded me of when someone broke into the house while I slept.

Your paper Walls torn into the night.
Exposing my vulnerability.
You sneak in and ravage my life.
Foundations of instability.
Creaking sounds of this weaping house.
Burgled my tranquility.
No peace or protection to be found.
Shattered the dependability.
Lying scared of who will appear.
House betrayed security.



-- Post From My iPhone

Another Busy Day

I have not managed to get any space to write for a while and it's driving me mad. My husband is home tonight and I hope that I get the chance then. I can't complain. I have a cute little boy who needs my attention.

Watercolour & Ink.

I was inspired when I saw a sketch  2009 by Caio Fernandes. So here is what I produced.

5 Minute drawing...

My brother asked me to draw something that represents him. It isn't my forte but I enjoyed the challenge. Here it is. If you want to see it along with the explanation check out Mark's blog oldtapeghost.

A Cry For Help.

I'm really struggling at the moment. I have so many ideas flooding my brain and no opportunity to write them down. This is because having a 7 month old baby that can crawl and climb is keeping me very busy. I am on my own with him for the whole day and by the time it is bedtime he is screaming all night due to teething.

Any parents out there can tell me how to do both? I am desperate to express myself fully. I love being a mum but I miss the space to think and write.

Arise and Be

Arise and be.

No more goodbyes.

Cast up your eyes.

Freedom realised.

The past dies.

Look at the sunrise.

Watch as hope fills the skies.

Motherhood.

I'm lost in myself.

I long for the freedom.

The me I want to see.

My mind swirls with wonder.

Always a new surprise.

The life that it would be.

No mundane.

No monotony.

No expectation.

No responsibility.

Just as I get lost in wonder.

Your face flashes in my mind.

Your eyes sparkle at me.

To have you in my life.

I realise it's worth the cost.

This is what is truly free.

Longing For Peace.

Longing to dream,

Dreaming to feel,

Feeling a hope,

Hoping for peace.

Creative Writing Workshop - Dialogue

This is what I wrote today at the creative writing workshop. We were looking at dialogue.

Paul handed his money over, took a ticket and stumbled down the bus searching out a seat as he went. Spotting one he sat down with a thump. Paul began to take his ipod out of his bag and unravel the earphones.

‘You having a good day dear.’

With a sigh to himself he shoved his ipod back in his bag knowing it would be a long journey. ‘Yes thanks.’

‘Lovely day.’

‘Not bad.’

‘You remind me of my Frank. Sweet man.’

‘Really.’

‘Yes.’ She gazed out of the window a moment then looked back at Paul. ‘Your eyes.’

‘What?’

‘You have the same eyes. The type of eyes that are young and yet full of wisdom.’

‘Thanks.’ Paul blushed. ‘So what has your day been like?’

‘Can’t complain. I have the air in my lungs and I have had a great love, so, so I can’t complain.’

Paul smiled at this sweet old woman.

‘Mind getting the button love?’

Paul pushed the button, slipped out his seat and watched her head down the bus.

‘Bye son.’ She waved without turning round.

‘Bye.’ Paul returned to his seat. She said, had. She said had a great love. Just then he noticed she was wearing all black.

Just For A Moment

Just for a moment,

let me lie in your arms.

Just for a moment,

let me feel connected.

Just for a moment,

let it be just us two.

Just for a moment,

let my tears flow.

Just for a moment,

let goodbye wait.

Just for a moment.

Writing From The Creative Writing Workshop

I stand here nearly swallowed up

Caught in the war of nature verses nature

Displaying power like a prancing peacock

Waves crashing its symbol to be heard

The cliff crowned in grass that dances in splendour

This proud tower weathering its opponent

Demanding its place

Immovable

Staking its claim

Wind rushing to win

Surrounding all that may stand in its way

Fighting to have this place carry my name

Man encroaching on Mother Nature

Sticking a flag in like it means something

Blood flowing like oceans to claim what was never theirs

Wind laughs at my plans

His voice heard in thunder and lightning

Staring at all creation colliding

We will be here long after you.

My Sanctuary

My sacred place,

Sheltered from within.

Saved by your love,

Treasured by your skin.

Your eyes whisper secrets,

secrets to my soul.

touch my heart,

my hearts made whole.

Piercing Platitudes

You didn’t know him

 

and gaze at his beauty

and hold him closely

and care so deeply

and touch him gently

and need him desperately

and love him instantly

and loose him quickly

and fight so fiercely

and walk away despondently

 

And as I tell you this

and your pity builds

and I feel your sadness

and the question burns within

and now it spills

and can’t hold it in

and you say ...

time is a healer.

I don't know what to title this. It's just a snapshot.

The room felt like it was closing in on me. I ached with the unfamiliar feeling of childbirth and the sounds of other babies arriving into this world crept through the crack in the door. A tear rolled down my husband's face and leapt onto my quivering hand. William was so tiny (4lbs 1oz to be exact).

So much had lead up to this moment. Every twist and turn of my life made me what I am. The joyful and the painful was preparation for the biggest challenge of my life. In this moment all the other things faded away. A hush fell in the room. Time froze. I leaned over and kissed him gently. My words spoken so softly reverberated within me. "Goodbye. I will miss you. I will see you in heaven."

Inspire

Toni made this inspired by my fridge poem. She is very talented. I'm so glad my work inspires people.

Within.

Breathe it in.

Drink it up.

Warmth trickling down.

Feeling its journey.

Radiating from within.

Surpassing all understanding.

Capture a moment.

Just for myself.

Quiet and peace.

For a second.

What sweet relief.

Inspired by a drawing (010) on http://astheysleep.blogspot.com/

blog.

As It Was

I went to a writing group today and we had to write the opening to our autobiography. Here is my offering:

It was one of those wonderful sunny days that are found so infrequently. I ventured into the garden and felt the grass between my toes. Then it occurred to me. I began dancing around the garden stripping off all my clothes, so very pleased with myself. At five i understood that i shouldn't but that knowledge made this so much sweeter. I danced around in nothing but a hat feeling the sun tingling my skin and the breeze rushing all over my body. 

The fun was interrupted by my mother pounding on the window in frustration. I stopped for a moment, waved and then danced on. I think i have always been this way (but with far less nudity). I approach life with a desire to feel everything. The sun on my skin, the breeze in my hair and the determination to do what i please.

A Longing From Within - Header

I created a new header for my blog. I hope you like it.

I thought that I would take photographs of my paintings.

I love peacock feathers and I felt inspired.

I was watching a medical show on TV. I wanted it to feel like it was coming back to life. Once I started painting it went from there. It became more of an abstract piece.

Art Inspires Us To Create Art

I used one of my photographs and used photoshop to make it more like a painting.

I'm new to using photoshop so I thought that I would have a play.

Fridge Poetry

Have you ever tried using fridge poetry. It's fun but the lack of words is frustrating. Someone gave me a set of the romance ones but I think I have lost some of the words. 

Here was my best with the few that I have. I took a picture of what I created on my fridge.

If it's unclear just let me know and I will type it up.

Lessons From a Mother of a Newborn

No you won’t die from the lack of sleep

No you won’t always pray to go deaf just for a minute’s piece

No you will never stop worrying (it comes with the job)

No you’re not a bad mother (crying is how they communicate)

No they don’t love him more than you because they say daa daa first

No don’t be alarmed if you find a piece of your crossword in its nappy (unless there is a pen too)

Yes at some point you will get a nights sleep (even if it’s when they're 18)

Yes it will get better

Yes when they are asleep you think they are perfect and can’t remember what you were moaning about

Yes they make you laugh till you nearly pee (that’s a side effect of childbirth)

Yes you will always be consumed by love for them

Yes they will make you the happiest you have ever been

Questions, Questions, Questions?

I have some random questions for you to mull over. Enjoy:

Why do people return to the fridge and cupboards hoping some food will appear after they have already checked several times?

Why do we press harder on the remote control when we know that the batteries are getting low?

Why do Kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

Why do they use sterilised needles for administering the lethal injections to the death row inmates?

Why does Tarzan not have a beard?

Why doesn’t glue stick to the bottle?

Why are we supposed to park on something called a driveway?

Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars and then check when you say the paint is wet?

If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes?

Carcass

I have posted this on 'Address The Naked' Blog.

I wrote this when I was writing so many poems. I really felt on a roll and then I read it all back and it was filled with cliche and drivel. I then wrote the poem below. The same words flowing from someone else's pen feels like touching heaven and I make them sound like a nursery rhymes. This was birthed out of frustration. I will return to it and work on it again so this is merely the first draft but I hope my frustration inspires you to pick up a pen.

This is the death of my words.

The end of this song.

Exposed the soul.

Smeared my heart on this page.

Platitudes and pity offered at my feet.

They stick in like knives.

Wit escapes my lungs and leaves self-indulgent babble.

The hands delve into the wound and cut and slice to get at the heart.

Pulling it away and throwing it into a metal tray.

The empty shell left to burn.

The heart then used to bring life to someone else.

Their wit and charm bring new existence.

The blood rushes through the veins and dances with power and influence.

I kneel down and sprinkle the ashes I have left.

His Abundance

see his depth

reach right in

to the deepest part

gently fingers dance

tentatively searching

searching for the core

the truth of who he is

not the perception so blatant

i dream of the depth of us

the who we could be

not the emergent

nor the puerile

but the us - the us evolved

matured

the fully grown

our sacred promise shared

the words softly spoken

the heart overflowing in two words

the completeness

the unsaid

the hopes and dreams

the two hearts held in one truth

my heart drenched with you

our hands interwoven in "I Do"

a never ending circle

a promise to grow together

the knowledge it won't be easy

the truth that it will get hard

the understanding of harsh life

but the assurance that everyday we will try till our life departs

Naked Creativity

I wrote this and posted it on the "Address The Naked" Blog. It is an exploration of creativity.

I want to leave something that lasts.

Paint a masterpiece.

Construct my art.

I want the world to gaze at the beauty

that pours from my heart.

The eloquence of my expression.

The creation that I long to impart.

 

I want to encapsulate all of creation

with just one photograph.

Make real what is abstract.

Words to edify and enrich,

holding unfathomable impact.

To resonate with the soul

and keep creativity intact.

 

I want to destroy the constructs of mediocrity.

Build beauty out of the rubble.

Eliminate clichés from the start.

Strip away at the façade.

Forcing convention to depart.

Leave only the naked truth.

The truth of art.

Healing

I long to show you the light that I saw in your eyes.

The light, the hope, and the love you do not see.

I felt a wash of sadness wave over and touch my soul.

I want to set you free.

I want to reach into the deepest part of your heart.

Touch the deep scares that reside there.

Your wounds they are familiar to me.

The scars that have been untouched by human hand since their conception.

I feel like I have the key to unlock the life inside of you.

But I know it cannot be me.

I Forgot Myself.

When I started this blog I wrote something to inspire and get people started on creating so I thought I would show you mine.

The light faded and all was dark. For just one moment it was as if it had never happened.

Slipping through worlds.

Memories tumbling.

How would it have been if I had known?

How should it have been if I could have paused?

I wish I could return.

I knew better but I forgot myself.

 

Face flushed

Temperature rising

Adrenaline racing

Teetering on the edge

Now I’m falling

Ground approaching

Panic sets in

What have I done?

 

Lying in my ditch

Bruised and battered

Wet with tears and fear

 

Jerked into reality

Eyes cloaked in sleep

Darkness fades

Light returns

It felt like a dream

For just one moment it was as if it never happened. 

Words Awaken!!

This is another of the words I love.

The word is: phenomenal (fi-NOM-uh-nl) Adj.

Meaning: Highly extraordinary or exceptional.

Upon Waking

Have you ever woken from a dream and it freaked you out? Not because it was scary but because of what it revealed about you was scary. It could mean nothing or it could mean everything. The question itself is what scares you. It could be like when you dream about death it means birth or does it just mean death?

I wrote this still half asleep.

Shaken to my core

Sleep still in my eyes

Scared of what it means

Searching for the truth

Slowly coming round

Steadying my nerves

Soon I will forget

Should I face the truth?

Today I Say I Do

It has been soooo long since I last posted something.

It has been a busy season. I have gotten into Uni studying Psychology (starting Sept). I just hope I can get the funding so I can go.

As I haven't posted anything I have written for some time I thought I would post the poem I wrote for Mel and Karl's Wedding. I was so pleased to be a part of their special day.

So here it is:

Today I say I do

Today our love dances on the wind

Enamoured by words breezing through.

Our dreams will flourish into life

As the future comes into view.

 

Today the secrets of my soul pour forth

Our joined destiny we now pursue.

Your love found me, then moved me

And now your love has made me new

 

Today mouths are speaking

What our hearts breathed true.

In the reflection of your eyes

Who I’m becoming is imbued

 

Today my heart is given freely

And I have entrusted it to you.

A myriad of moments interwoven

Our vows we now accede to.

 

To shelter from within, I do

To walk beside you, I do

To laugh till we cry, I do

To be your friend, I do

To edify with my words, I do

To speak sweet truth, I do

To express my heart, I do

 

All I can say is, thank you.