Century Twenty One – Ellie Sparks

We are more than our footprints

Thank you very much to Ellie Sparks for her topical and thought-provoking entry. Ellie is a Creative Writing graduate who has a passion for poetry, horror movies, swimming and pop-punk music. We really appreciate Ellie taking the time to share her talents with us and enter the competition.

Century Twenty One

We are more than our footprints,
kneaded down in
familiar sands.
We are not the trails we have
followed.
We are not the road signs
we’ve missed.
We are personalities
floating inside a
universe
where big hands
stand still.
We stop and we stare,
waiting to smash
the hard drives
of computerised
sat navs and
the lines on old-fashioned road maps.

Ellie Sparks, 22, Southern England

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Perfection – Emily Kelly

True beauty should come from within

Thanks to Emily Kelly for her topical and powerful offering on the dangers of social media. As Emily explains, she ‘wrote this poem to show how false and damaging social media can be on a young, naïve, shy and unconfident person’. We are sure that there are many people who will be able to relate to Emily’s message and appreciate the important point she is making. Thank you very much Emily for kindly supporting our project.

Perfection

You look in the mirror

And all you see are flaws.

You end up in constant wars,

But only with yourself.

–

Perfection is what people strive for

It almost seems like a law.

True beauty should come from within

Surely that’s not a sin?

Toned abs, with kind skin

That’s how to win.

The dreaded words ‘body image’

They should be cut down

And finished.

–

But no.

Civilisation seems to enjoy shaming

Especially the weak ones.

Perfection targets them,

Perfection is all they hear

Perfection is all they see,

But themselves.

Perfection?

It’s not a legislation.

Perfection?

It should be objection.

Emily Kelly

The Old Pickup Truck – Melanie Corneby-Robinson

One day soon the truck will bloom

Many thanks to Melanie Corneby-Robinson for submitting a poem which was inspired by a close family member’s battle with cancer. Melanie is a keen writer and is currently penning her first novel. Some of her work appeared in the July edition of ‘Writing Magazine’. We are sure you will appreciate Melanie’s poetry and we really appreciate her kindness and support.

The Old Pickup Truck

Life is but an old pickup truck

It trundles here and trundles there

And sometimes trundles everywhere

Life is but an old pickup truck.

–

Not a thought is spared for the wears and tears

Nor for the load the truck always bears

The pressure mounts, it always counts

Not a thought is spared for the wears and tears.

–

The tyres wear, the cab looks old

Play the last card and fold

You can’t because the games on hold

The tyres wear, the cab looks old.

–

One day soon the truck will bloom

When its tired shell rides out of gloom

The wears and tears will no longer ache

The trundles the truck will no longer take.

One day the truck will bloom

And that day is coming soon.

Melanie Corneby-Robinson, Ripon

Mother Nature – Sunita Edirisooriya

Under your wing, You watch as I grow.

Sunita Edirisooriya is currently studying medicine at Cardiff University, and we are very appreciative that she has taken the time to share her poetry with us. The poem was penned after Sunita had been soaked in a sudden downpour and – rather than getting upset – she decided to look on the positive side of Mother Nature. Thank you Sunita for supporting our project.

Mother Nature

Mother Nature:

You’re a rage.

The bearer of chaos,

Fleeing your cage.

–

You can be fickle,

But, so can I.

Be patient, you say

As the clouds pass us by.

–

Mother Nature:

Transcending wonder.

You paint the sky

For us to ponder.

–

With effortless charm

And relentless power,

You demand domination

And grant us flowers.

–

You govern the sea

With your natural grace.

The rays of your sun

Caressing my face.

–

Under your wing,

You watch as I grow.

From the size of a seed

Amid a meadow.

–

At my own pace,

I will twist and I’ll turn.

I know it takes time

To grow and to learn.

–

Mother Nature:

Your guidance is true.

In turbulent times

I look up to you.

–

You tell me to breathe,

That it’s all okay.

The sun is setting,

It’s just another day

Sunita Edirisooriya, Cardiff University

Silent Voice – Neelam Shah

There are many voices in you, But which one should you listen to?

A very special thanks to Neelam Shah for her poignant offering. Neelam is a passionate poet from Thornton Heath who delivers a powerful message with this poem. Do you listen to your silent voice?

SILENT VOICE

What is the silent voice?

–

A conscience telling, you what is right or wrong.

A voice that can never be heard outside but only within.

A whisper persuading you to listen to it.

A cry for help, but you can only hear it in your mind.

–

Some people choose to not listen to what it is saying,

But it will never fade away it is always with you,

Whether it is an inner call or a cry, the voice cannot disappear.

–

There are three kinds of voices one is the angel,

Guiding you along to the right path,

It can also be a saviour or messenger from god.

–

The other is the devil telling you to commit bad deeds,

It can disturb you in your dreams giving you trouble,

Haunting you with murdering screams.

Some voices you cannot trust.

–

The last is your own it channels your inner thoughts,

And speaks out your mind.

There are many voices in you,

But which one should you listen to?

–

What is the silent voice?

Neelam Shah, Thornton Heath

From Death to Re-Birth – Brian Maloney

I may not be perfect, but at least I have a line

From Death to Re-birth

People die, most people will lie, even to their own blood,

Excuses rife, selfishness in life,

I know I am not innocent and I always feel the floods.

I may not be perfect, but at least I have a line.

Money and gain, control and pain,

Sick of everyone, being the same.

Manipulation is getting to me,

It’s taking over my head,

All I want to feel for a while, is peace and love instead.

Through all of this in disbelief,

You slay me with your grief.

–

The dark clouds that dizzily plague my mind,

Pulsating tempers that consistently flare,

Stress of the weight upon I, who longs to be kind,

The anger, the frustration, yes, they dance and dare.

Happiness drops by from time to time,

Pushed away by the hands of the crime.

Fire still blazing the salt water runs,

From the heart to the ocean tide,

The sun sets, the full moon comes,

I used to take this in my stride,

What is it – we have become?

–

The children weep for they are not blind,

You never know what they might find.

My decision to cease the battle cry,

Shows the truth, you try to hide,

I swallow words and phrases that burn,

When will I ever have my turn.

The stone and sand, the blue skies too,

A good example would be a shoe.

Seriously, quickly, my point is quashed,

Along with my trust, your cold hearts frost,

You always underestimate the cost.

–

For days we smile and enjoy the freedom,

The castle painted, the sun and golden sand,

Opinions changed with holding hands.

Smiles and thunderous lessons on repeat,

I will never admit defeat.

Organised mind, most of the chaos has left,

Love once again beats in my chest,

I swear to never travel this sour road again,

Still you underestimate my pain,

This never ending childish game,

It’s not all your fault, I will never be the same.

–

I chose to rise again like a phoenix!

I chose to stand right by your side,

I chose to trust and do what’s right,

I chose to never start the fights.

I chose to be like nature – re-born,

I chose myself, so sound the horn,

My battle cry was all but heard,

But still I walk your way,

I swear to be there, from this day,

You couldn’t tell, you never could,

Your opinion of me, brutally misunderstood.

–

The time has come to fly back to the nest,

Now time will show me, the true test.

At first it’s fine, it’s all in place,

Before the fall of the mask, from your heart and face.

The calm before the storm, I know it all too well,

How did I know, oh how you fell,

I aimed for peace, I aimed for health,

I almost aimed for someone else,

But strength and honour are my wealth.

This poisoned cycle returns again, deep it sinks into my breaking heart,

I transform, you repeat, subconsciously, pulling me apart.

–

Now the question, with peace in mind,

Where do I go and what will I find?

Karma will pay, it always does,

–

Stuck with hate, eternal love.

You will be bitter, this I know,

Will I even get to see my children grow?

Three innocent souls and this I see,

This was always meant to be,

My waking dream, of fear and hope,

Has this all been one big joke?

–

This future is now, in ether it’s written,

This could be anyone’s decision,

Be it you or I, we will all suffer,

You remind me of your mother,

Identity where, it has it’s cost,

The love you had, but now is lost,

I remember vividly, the love, the pain,

But I my dear, will never be the same,

Neural pathways you can’t control, disassociate from feelings,

You nearly drove me insane, again! It’s time to say goodbye again!

Neural pathways you can’t control, destroy my loving feelings,

There is no cohesion, or reasoning, between your mouth, and brain

Brian Maloney

Thank you to Brian for his entry to our competition and blog. Brian is a passionate poet and is a great lover of art, music and photography. We really appreciate his decision to share his poetry with us.

Where the Water Falls – Jessie-Mae Buers

going on a journey and still beating

Thank you Jessie-Mae Buers for her fantastic entry. Jessie-Mae has been ‘inspired by the work of Wendy Cope and Sylvia Plath, as well as work from the Romantic era of poetry.’ She feels that poetry is a ‘coping mechanism when facing troubles that you feel are out of your control.’ We are very appreciative that Jessie-Mae decided to support the project and share ‘where the water falls’ with us.

where the water falls

you can’t bury a heart in thick earth,

expecting a new one to grow

from the ground, like a willow tree

or something that has the power

that holds the same strength

as the running waters. sooner

a branch breaks, goes off-stream; yonder

towards the oesophagus of the sea

where the organ

deflates, drowns and becomes purple,

swollen, limp, but

charitable

going on a journey and still beating —

and I swear,

it goes for a walk, must’ve

summit of choice, the mouth of the roots.

by demand, it can’t go far,

as it reaches

like a biblical story

postures like a crane,

billed with tissue and

reaches.

Jessie-Mae Buers, Bristol

The Sun and the Moon – Malika Hussain

Together they were a work of art

Special thanks to Malika Hussain for her excellent entry to the competition and Voices blog. Malika certainly has a talent for crafting verse, and we are certain you will appreciate this fantastic offering.

The Sun and the Moon

She was sun and he was the moon,

She snuck out to see him at noon,

So close but yet so far apart,

Together they were a work of art.

–

His tree was cut down, he was stuck in the past,

When she came into his life the pain didn’t last,

He was all alone with no light to guide him,

The torture tore him limb by limb.

–

Her rose was wilted, her heart was torn,

When he came into her life her heart was reborn,

She was stuck between these walls,

Trapped in her silent calls.

–

She was the sun and he was the moon,

Together they made a perfect tune,

They were worlds apart,

Yet they were together at heart.

By Malika Hussain

Sunflowers – Rebecca Swan

Everyone longed for her

Many thanks to Rebecca Swan for her vibrant entry to the competition and Voices blog. Rebecca is a very creative person and writes ‘about a whole series of topics, ones that often link together in the end. Depression, anxiety, love found and love lost.’ We appreciate Rebecca sharing her poetic talents, and we are sure everyone will appreciate this vivid and imaginative poem.

SUNFLOWERS

In a field full of sunflowers,

she stood out the most.

No one could ignore her colours,

they loved her vibrance so.

In a field full of sunflowers,

she shone, she was bright.

Everyone longed for her,

even I wished she were mine.

In a field full of sunflowers,

I knew she was the one –

because in a field full of sunflowers,

they were just flowers,

but she was the sun.

Rebecca Swan, 15

My Love – Amy Gooch

wider than the skies

Amy Gooch has recently graduated from university with a Masters Degree, and we are delighted that she has kindly entered her poem into the competition. Amy found that writing poetry was an excellent creative outlet during her time studying at university. Thank you Amy for sharing your talents with us.

My Love

My Love –

warm skin

warmer eyes

–

beside my head

soft breaths

from your wide chest

wider than the skies

Amy Gooch, 21