What’s your superpower?

Why if I had a dime,

For every time,

Superman posts, “Just Saved the Day!”

On his Twitter timeline,

I’d be as rich as Tony Stark.

Who, despite his narcissistic, sarcastic,

Slightly socio-pathic tendencies,

Has a kind heart.

But rip apart the machinery, the façade,

And what is left?

What remains?

The Bane of my existence,

Persists and points out,

“What’s so special about you? You don’t matter.”

Do you fly?

No. Too many planes.

Superspeed?

No. Afraid of the excessive amount of bugs,

Caught between the two front teeth,

And the back of my throat.

Trust me, it’s disgusting.

So, I wish I could gloat,

About my telepathic brain.

But I don’t really need one,

To see what you’re thinking,

When a tall, smiling girl with curves,

Walks your way,

Onto the train at 8:03.

No…
My superpower packs more of a punch,

Than your average cup of coffee.

My superpower is…Positivity!

Not in a happy clappy, overly optimistic, preppy sort.

The kind that says self-belief,

Will cure the world of violence and bullying.

No. We have the power,

To bring people up when you bring them down,

Keep their head up,

Instead of low to the ground,

Because they think they’ll never be good enough for you.

With our cheerful disposition,

Our volition will carry friends,

Through the dark times, the good times,

The boring-as-fudge times,

Like an 8am archaic algebraic class.

Positivity is the hope in Pandora’s box.

Positivity is the love and hug around a campfire,

On a blistering Winter’s night.

We will always fight for other people’s rights

To express themselves.

We have a voice, brave and bold.

Barking barbaric yawps from the mountain tops.

We are majestic lions, proud.

Tall, we stand together,

Against the creeping shadowy thoughts.

Because when all is said and done,

What makes me special?

Nothing but the glowing light,

The song in my heart,

And the hope that tomorrow will bring new experiences,

Making me feel ALIVE.

And the fire in my soul will keep burning,

The world will keep turning,

And my passion for people will be shared eternally.

So does that answer your question, friend?

2015 April PAD Challenge Day 14: Honest/Dishonest

An honest reflection on the day’s events

Honestly, I don’t
feel like writing a poem today.
I just wrote a 1000-word essay,
about the dishonest characters,
in Northanger Abbey.
I barely survived writing till midnight,
So please excuse me if I get a bit crabby.
In earnest though,
I feel like a success!
Getting to day 14,
without much distress,
over deadlines,
or keeping to the same theme.
In fact,
we are all a success.
All of us.
Even you reading this poem.
So…
I bid you all adieu,
Until next ‘morrow,
I’ll see all of you
for the following poetry challenge.
Now,
I’m off to eat some celebratory pancakes.

2015 April PAD Challenge Day 9: A Work in Progress

This may be one of my favourite poems I’ve written so far. I know it’s quite different from my usual style but I hope you like it just the same. If you’d like to find out more about the Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day challenge, click the link here.

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A work in progress

Blue denim shoelaces,
dangle precariously
off the bed.
Loose sheets
in disarray.

‘Tis the season,
for spring cleaning.
Instead I sit,
contemplating the semantics,
of this boorish work.

Subtraction would be simple,
if the additional stench,
of a mountain of laundry
and bills,
Stopped piling up.

Day by day,
I remind myself –
even though I haven’t figured it all out
just yet,
I am young;
I am still a work in progress.

2015 April PAD Challenge Day 4: Departure (from technology)

Today I tried something different and went for a satirical, humorous poem. Hope you like it! Here’s a link to the April Poem-A-Day challenge if you want to find out more about it: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2015-april-pad-challenge-day-4

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Goodbye old, hello new

It was hard keeping up with you,
Sending me new updates,
Every five minutes.
I had to check that you weren’t dying enough,
For me to buy those Katy Perry tickets.
And whilst we fought over,
Whether or not you were connected to Wi-Fi.
The months seemed to fly by,
With you in my side pocket.

Because it was you who came with me,
And took selfies in England,
It was you,
Who prevented me from stumbling in the dark,
You suggested I go home,
Instead of another round of beer and darts.

But now I must depart from you.
And you want to know why?
I won’t miss your increasingly condescending tone,
When I deviate from the original route.
I won’t miss your invites,
To get ninjas to slice fruit,
Or to play Farmville.
Nor will I miss your annoying need,
To remind me to get out of bed for work,
Or to recharge at 20% every thirty minutes.

And finally,
I won’t miss,
When you try to keep me fit,
By tracking my health,
And playing “Let’s get physical” on shuffle,
Followed by “Loser like me”.

Therefore, I’m leaving you.
I’m moving on,
To something far more exciting and new.
Goodbye old, hello new.
Welcome to the Apple iPhone 7.2

2015 April Poem-A-Day Challenge Day 1: Resistance

It’s that time of the year again where I post my poems for the Writer’s Digest 2015 April PAD challenge. If you want to find out more about the challenge or join me, click the link here: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2015-april-pad-challenge-day-1

Hope you enjoy the poem about a certain superhero. Can you guess who it might be?

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The Speed Force

Running faster than the speed of light,
Yet something isn’t right.
It’s holding me back,
From pushing me further,
Than I’ve ever gone before.

Too long I’ve been afraid of…
Something restricting me,
From within.
This indescribable feeling,
Friction caused by two opposing forces.
Now I know this kind of thinking,
Causes me anxiety,
But my priority is to run.

Run faster than the speed of light.
Yet something,
Someone is chasing me into the night.
This is not ‘fright night’ now.
I’m caught in the lime light now.
People peering into my private life now.
Praise is their pre-dispositional reaction as I flash by.

Try as I might,
The speed force drags me back,
I fall flat on my face.
But I don’t want to disgrace this place,
For this city is my home that I roam around in,
These empty street corners.
No.
This is my victory day.
So I get back on track,
With swift kinetic feet,
With a brand new beat,
Start sprinting to the finish line.

I’m on a roll now,
Unstoppable,
All the way to the top,
Travelling velocity unknown,
Something’s gonna pop.

Finally, I can breathe.
I’m done. I won.
So to those who would just leave,
Abandon all hope of believing in the impossible.
Just try to keep up.
Seeing is believing,
And I’ll be back in a flash.

Je suis la même (an original poem)

This is something that I’ve wanted to do but I was too afraid to try. I wrote a poem in French. It’s very simplistic but I hope you can get the rhythm and the feel of it. I hope you enjoy it and if you get stuck, just use Google Translate. Let me know what you think?

Je suis la même

Je suis la même.
Rien a changé.
Nous sommes « pas mal »,
Chaque jour, « pas mal ».
Bien que vous avez une ombre noire,
Qui vous suit,
Vous dites, « C’est juste…rien »
Chaque mois, « rien ».
Les yeux gris aussi froids que vos mots.
Les mots aussi froids que la mort.
Insensibles, troubles cachés.
Comment je peux savoir vos véritables pensées ?
Vos rêves et ambitions.
Vos désirs et émotions.
Donc, on a fait le jeu.

« Ca va ? »
« Bien. Ca va ? »
« Pas mal. »
Jusqu’au samedi matin de juin,
Je vous ai apporté,
Un café au lait,
Dans votre lit.
Larmes éclaboussé sur votre chemise.
Vous crie, « Je ne suis pas la même. Quelques choses a changé. »
« Quel a changé ? »
« Je ne suis plus la peur du change, du monde parce que… »
« Pourquoi ? »
« Parce que tout le monde change.
Chaque année,
Chaque moment,
Comme des feuilles des arbres.
On change avec les saisons.
Parfois bonne, parfois mauvais,
Mais c’est important de comprends que…
Il ne faut jamais oublier qui nous étions,
Qui nous sommes, ce qui nous serons.
Enfin, j’ai comprends. »
« Je ne suis pas la même.
Je vais changer.
Ce temps, bien sûr. »
« Bien sûr, mon chère. »
« Je t’aime. »
« Je sais. Je t’aime. »
Le fin.
Rien.

Change

Why are you changing?
It’s neither the beginning nor the ending,
Somewhere inside the vortex of emotions,
Something is pulling, thrusting YOU towards me
But I just don’t know how to explain…

The pain. It’s like you’re howling,
Crying out for help from me,
Something lost, broken, growing within,
Your brave face never falters,
Even though your veins are drained and wearing thin.
Why did you change?

In the good old days, the golden years,
We never wore watches,
Because our time was as infinite as the stars shining above us.
And for the longest time, they guided us, defined who we were and what we could be.
We we limitless.
And you were the dauntless potential I never had.

And let’s not pretend we never fought,
Because, my love, we most assuredly did.
We had yawping contests every few weeks,
Yet despite my illogical babblings,
You never protested that I was best.
Why did you have to change?

Or maybe it’s not you who changed their identity for the f****d up situation you found yourself in.
Change means growth, leaving things behind.
But I can’t bring myself to forget all 296 memories of you at the door.
The box on the floor.
You bore all my tormented thoughts for so very long,
Bottled up inside of you so that I would stay happy.
And maybe it’s why we went our separate ways.

Change, what is it good for?
Falling in and out of love with you was never a chore.
New paths of self-discovery, new adventures await.
I am awakening into a different person now, I can’t avoid my fate.
Changing is easy, it’s letting go of who you once were,
And letting go of you was the hardest.

2014 April PAD Challenge Day 30: Write a “Calling it a day” poem

Today marks the final day of the Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day challenge. 30 Days, 30 poems and I have to say thank you to all of my supporters. If you wanted to write one for the final day, just click away here. I don’t think I’ll be updating the blog for a while but I hope you enjoy them all. Thank you so much and goodnight!

Calling It A Day

Today marks the end,
Of this small-time quest,
To request,
That my optimistic, artistic, creative brain,
To remain alert,
And functioning for at least thirty days.
I’m amazed how far I’ve come,
To those who have joined me, I say thanks.

Some days were long treks,
Through dark, vicious jungles;
You didn’t know when inspiration would hit you next.
To spark an idea,
Straight from your heart.

Most of them, to be honest,
Were whimsical romantic poems,
Which always had a hopeful end,
Filled with fluffy metaphors,
Floating up in the clouds.

But then came the down pours,
The melancholy times,
When you didn’t want to make up,
Elementary rhymes,
When all you wanted to do,
Was dive right into tired monologues,
Of self-loathing, heartbreak
And negativity and gloom.
Indeed, it would seem,
Like nothing would cheer up the doom,
Filled in the deepest recesses of my writer’s block.

But you see,
Everything to me,
Is a journey,
With a beginning,
A middle and and end…
That’s not to say there weren’t happy occasions,
Where the not-so-deep-and-meaningful poems,
Filled me with joy, enthusiasm and determination,
To take on the daily routine,
To face challenges unseen,
Not at all.

This is it,
I’ve made it,
Thirty original poems,
For each autumn day,
And now I’m calling it a day.
The End.
Until next year comes around,
Where the pleasure and pain begins again.

2014 April PAD Challenge Day 25: Write a “last straw” poem

Hey guys! Today marks the 25th day of the Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day challenge. This one is something that’s very personal to me and I think a lot of other people struggle with it too so I hope that you find this poem somewhat useful to you.

Beating Procrastination

This is the last straw.
I’m sick of you getting in the way,
Like sitting in a movie theatre,
And someone in front of you,
Is wearing a big hat.
It distracts you from your enjoyment of the film,
No matter which way you go,
They sway in the same direction as you.

I cannot simply “go with the flow”,
Or lay back and relax,
Because thanks to you,
At the end of the day,
My work needs to be faxed through.
I need to face the facts,
That sometimes,
I need to organise my time a little bit better.

Procrastination, you’re nicotine for me,
And don’t you just know it.
Leaving me heaving,
Panicking all over the floor,
Drowning me in tears and sobs,
“I can’t do this anymore.”
And when I hand it in late,
You let me feel deflated,
Defeated.
But I’ll refuse to give up,
And give in to you, next time.

This time,
This is the last straw,
I’m drawing the line.
Sure, it will be hard to resist you,
However, I’ll persist,
I’ll insist that you don’t control me.
Now it’s my turn to show the world,
I’ve got what it takes,
To be the best I can be,
To raise the stakes,
And illustrate,
My strengths and weaknesses.
Because this time,
I’m not going to lose to you.

Yes, it will be an uphill battle.
This I know for sure,
I’ve encountered these problems,
Countless times before.
You could say,
Making and breaking promises,
On this subject,
Is my specialty.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

I will struggle to defeat you,
Like climbing a great mountain.
I will struggle up Mt. Everest,
Harsh wind blowing me setbacks,
Doubting my abilities,
Looking down,
Looking back,
On my goal to climb to the top,
To rise above the average mob.
But I know I can do it.

I will beat you, procrastination.
This time,
For sure.
Because I can feel this strong feeling,
Pushing me onwards,
Rising in my chest,
In my heart,
In my soul,
In my bones,
This time you will leave me alone.
I will pound you down flat.
And that will be the end of that.

2014 April PAD Challenge Day 16: Write an elegy poem

Today’s prompt is to write an elegy or in other words, a love poem for the dead. Even though it’s a really morbid subject, I still hope you enjoy it. And if you fancy joining in on the fun of the 30 day challenge then click here for today’s prompt. It’s never too late! I really don’t have anyone that I’ve lost and felt lots of pain for so I’m going to continue with my fluffy naive love poems.

Elegy to innocent romanticism

Buddy oh pal, o’ friend of mine.

It seems like you’re slowly fading away, you’re dying.

Love seems so twisted in this digital age,

Affairs, abuse and non-committed relationships at this stage.

Back in the golden days,

Love wasn’t so hard to find,

chivalry and gentlemanly gestures would not go astray. 

You were perfect, you were pure, you were full of hope and optimism,

Now you are laughed at and ridiculed for being old-fashioned.

But you were so beautiful, you filled girl’s hearts with delight.

Wrote them epic love poems, brought them bouquets of lilacs and lilies at night,

To prove your devotion, you waited patiently for a message.

So, call me naive for thinking you still live,

That you still exist in this twenty-first century,

full of cynical creatures and monsters,

That say you aren’t true,

But just know that I will always be committed,

To believing in you.