My Big 100th Post Extravaganza! Lollipops and Sunshine, WordPress Families and my favorite posts revealed!
Yes indeed! 100 posts later and I find myself looking back on the journey thus far! So, without further ado, allow me to proceed…
First off, a couple of weeks ago, Ambitious Poet (http://ambitiouspoet.wordpress.com/) kindly provided me with the Sunshine award. Thank you!
Like with all awards on WordPress there are rules to be followed and this one is no exception.
One: Include the award in a post and/or on your blog
Two: Link back to the person who nominated you
Three: Answer ten questions about yourself (make these up as you go along apparently)
Four: Nominate ten other bloggers who are rays of sunshine
Five: Alert your nominees to the award they have received
Okay, so ten questions about myself? Can’t be too hard, can it? (Looks around anxiously, eyes shifting left to right, palms becoming sweaty as he wipes a bead of sweat from his temple, legs trembling with trepidation as he fumbles across the keyboard)
One: Why did you begin this blog?
I had a number of random pieces that were neglected by publishers in my own country and so thought it would be a good idea to have them published online for others to read. Additionally I wanted to gander the opinion of the wider public to see what people in general thought of my writing. On top of this I believe this was a bit of a confidence building exercise. Ever since I began this blog I have been submitting more and more work to publishers in general, most of whom never reply – those bastards! However, I do try to look at things on the bright side and ever since beginning this blog I have had my poetry published. This accomplishment, along with many of the comments and visits from fellow bloggers that I receive inspires me to continue.
Two: What are your favorite posts thus far?
The favorite posts I have created you mean? I’ll assume that’s what it is…these fifteen out of the total one hundred posts that I have generated thus far are ones that I like based on my own personal opinions rather than on the amount of views they generated. Okay, so my favourite posts starting out at number fifteen are:
15: Just so Perfect: http://wp.me/p24LWs-P
14: Alphabet of Love: http://wp.me/p24LWs-6a
13: Vancouver Sunrise: http://wp.me/p24LWs-8C
12: It’s not Easy: http://wp.me/p24LWs-2p
11: Superman Tonight: http://wp.me/p24LWs-1d
10: To the woman of unimaginable beauty: http://wp.me/p24LWs-2E
9: You, Me and 2013: http://wp.me/p24LWs-7P
8: I live to say I Love you: http://wp.me/p24LWs-6Q
7: This Far Come: http://wp.me/p24LWs-5r
6: Where Thy Wilhelmina Without Love: http://wp.me/p24LWs-4k
5: The Night Melbourne Died: http://wp.me/p24LWs-1H
4: The way it ought to be: http://wp.me/p24LWs-5V
3: Sixty Something Love Quotes: http://wp.me/p24LWs-5N
2: Dear Kat De Lieva: http://wp.me/p24LWs-8w
1: Alexia: http://wp.me/s24LWs-alexia
Three: What are some of your favorite poetic writers?
My favorite poets, in no particular order are William Shakespeare, John Donne, Rudyard Kipling, John Keats (on occasion, although some of his pieces I find a little soporific, no offence intended), Andrew Marvell and Alfred Tennyson. As for Australian poets, Paul Kelly (in moderation) is alright and I have additionally always been partial to Tara Mokhtari.
Four: What are your fifteen favorite video games?
Oh my God! How did you know to ask this question? How did you know I am the biggest video game addict in the entire Southern Hemisphere? Oh, right, probably because I asked the question. Now that the magic is gone it doesn’t seem all that impressive.
Anyway below are my fifteen favorite video game titles, based on the single player campaign only:
14: Doom 3
13: Enslaved: Odyssey of the West
12: Half-Life 2
11: Quake III Arena
10: Mass Effect
8: Halo 2
7: Halo 3
6: Unreal II: The Awakening
5: Bioshock 2
4: Mass Effect 2
3: Halo Reach
2: Halo 4
1: Mass Effect 3
Five: When you were younger, what did you want to be?
Well, when I was six I wanted to be the next David Attenborough, although I think every young child wants to run around with fauna and flora. When I was twelve I wanted to become a video games designer, although to do this one needs to be super smart and in reality I’m a baboon. No, sorry, the word I was looking for was ‘buffoon’, but I think I’m a bit of a baboon as well. When I was 16 I wanted to become the next A-grade actor. Apart from being in a band around the same time I was additionally involved in many acting classes, et al. The problem was that I focused more on writing than on acting and thus, this led to this particular dream of mine becoming unattainable.
Six: What are eleven traits you admire in a potential love interest?
What kind of question is this? Well, you ask and I answer I do suppose…1: Intelligence, 2: Wit, 3: Personality, 4: Soberness, 5: Truthfulness, 6: Kindness, 7: Humour, 8: Dazzling smile and Sparkling eyes, 9: Darkness (internal, nothing to do with skin colour), 10: Enthusiasm towards video games and 11: Beauty
Seven: There’s a party happening, don’t ask me where, but it’s about to go down. What are eleven potential artists that will have to be played on more than one occasion to keep you musically entertained?
(In no particular order) Daughtry, Bon Jovi, Bruce Springsteen, Roxette, IceHouse, Meatloaf, Nickelback, Katy Perry, Rick Springfield, Foreigner, Thirty Seconds to Mars.
Eight: What are some of the favourite things you like about the city you live in?
I’m not exactly what one might call ‘patriotic’ and so there are about as many things I like about Melbourne as much as there are purple elephants. The traffic congestion is horrible, the trains never run on time, the entire city is more overcrowded than a women’s shoe store offering 95% off selected stock, jobs are about as easy to come by as dragon’s eggs and, oh, wait, this is meant to be my favorite aspects of the city. Right…In that case it might very well be the artistic piece titled Cow in a Tree by John Kelly at Docklands.
Nine: What is your favorite colour?
What? This is a cliché question if I ever saw one! Who wrote this? Oh, right, I did (ha ha ha). Yes, well, my favourite colour is no doubt blue; however I am also partial to the colour of my blood and heart (that’s right folks, the colour black!).
Ten: What is your favorite film genre?
I’m uncertain if I stereotypically have one. I generally will watch anything of entertaining worth, depending on the mood I am in at that particular moment. I am incredibly partial to sci-fi, action features with intelligible storylines, dramas and thrillers. I’ll never say ‘no’ to a good comedy and although I used to enjoy horror films, more often than not this particular genre does nothing to impress me no more.
Now, without further ado, the moment you have all been waiting for (maybe not); my ten nominees (in alphabetical order) are as follows:
Everyday Strange and Sacred
Meet Me in Medias Res
The Dainty Damsel
Congratulations people! Again, thank you to Ambitious Poet for the award!
Moving on, additionally in the last week Clouds N Cups (http://cncfashionaccessories.wordpress.com/) graciously stated that I was one of the many bloggers within their online community who were a part of their WordPress family.
After receiving such a kindly mention (and since this is my 100th post after all), I thought that I too would reveal all of the bloggers that make up my WordPress family. Of course, if I happen to forget your name and you believe that you are a part of my WordPress family then please forgive me and do be sure to call me an idiot so I may include you on the list as well. 😀
So, in alphabetical order, here are (some of) the bloggers that make up my online blogging family.
A Girls Guide to Gamer Guy http://agirlsguidetoagamerguy.wordpress.com/
Ambitious Poet http://ambitiouspoet.wordpress.com/
Beatrice Beatrice http://beatricebeatrice.wordpress.com/
Betty Generic http://bettygeneric.wordpress.com/
Clouds N Cups http://cncfashionaccessories.wordpress.com/
Coco J Ginger http://courtingmadness.wordpress.com/
Emo Uncle’s Playground http://theemouncleplayground.wordpress.com/
Forever Poetic http://foreverpoetic.me/
Impressions of a Princess http://gongjumonica.wordpress.com/
Jennifer Stuart http://enjoylifeforonce.com/
Jodi Ambrose http://jodiambroseblog.com/
Karl Weller http://playstationkw.wordpress.com/
Kayla Speaks http://kaylaspeaks13.wordpress.com/
Lauren Sharkey http://ljoysharkey.wordpress.com/
Memoirs of a Dragon http://memoirsofadragon.wordpress.com/
Miichele Seminara http://micheleseminara.wordpress.com/
Nonoy Manga http://nonoymanga.wordpress.com/
Read N Cook http://readncook.wordpress.com/
Recollections of Play http://recollectionsofplay.wordpress.com/
Sam Lueng http://cheeesetoastieandvideogames.com/
Silver Poetry http://silverpoetry.wordpress.com/
Tara Mokhtari http://taramokhtari.wordpress.com/
Tea Girl Diaries http://teagirldiaries.wordpress.com/
The Duck of Indeed http://duckofindeed.wordpress.com/
United We Game http://wegameunited.com/
What’s Your Tag http://whatsyourtagblog.com/
Thanks for reading people! Additionally, thank you to all who have visited, read, liked and commented upon my pieces! I am overjoyed at your contribution and although I cannot find the words to accurately write how this makes me feel, just know that because of this supporting community I have enjoyed writing thees past 100 posts and hope to enjoy writing the next 100 too! I hope you all have a great day!
Groaning, wailing, crying;
clouds are cringing
as the cold air blows through.
I dare not say a word
as the wind, like icicles,
stabs me again and again,
my body incidentally
shielding yours from the
ominous weather patterns
planning to deface me.
Ironically, I am there not by
choice, despite my feelings
as I adjust my mask. My
mask is the birthday suit
I was born with, but it hides
perfectly the emotions
threatening to be revealed in
the semi-tornado wind.
‘Fancy that’ you say, ‘a
tornado in Melbourne’ and I
subtly nod my head, hopeful
that this distraction will keep
you from noticing the truth.
The truth that we would be
better as lovers than as the
masquerade I have
orchestrated due to my
intense fear of committal.
But as the wind blows
and your hair billows in
the gusting breeze, it ain’t
just my mask that is being
beaten away, but my fears
and anxieties too. In that
one moment I put my arm
around you, protecting you
deliberately this time from
the freezing cold. Perhaps this
will prove to you my feelings,
without my need to verbally
convey the truth. If not,
the kiss I place on your lips
will certainly do the
talking for me. So here’s me
thanking God for bad weather,
for it brings people together
and makes love so much
easier to convey.
I was on the city bound train, not a few days ago,
when I saw a young woman who captivated me so.
She was skinny like a well trained athlete, with the smile of a spectacular queen,
and her purple top and black track pants made my thoughts for her consistently unclean.
Her track pants had the unlikely habit of frequently falling down below her waist,
and I am certain that everyone can imagine what exotic delights I faced
upon the city train. I will say this though; every part of her I pleasurably saw
left me with the insatiably incurable urge to bear witness to so much more.
Perhaps I should have said something? Do people think so? Perhaps I should have spared her dignity?
But why I ask? All women are beautiful, and should embrace their undeniable beauty.
Moreover, if this young woman had but a flaw or two, such certainly did not happen to catch my eye,
but that does not necessarily mean that others saw what I did, or if they noticed something that I
failed to see, like for instance the many scars that ran across the right side of her face,
the origin of such scar tissue being something that not a soul could ever retrace.
Perhaps she was born with them; perhaps there was once a fire; perhaps she one day required surgery;
but either way it don’t matter, for this young lady shall indefinitely remain beautiful to me.
Indefinite was the longevity of time that I had with the Melbourne Poets Union. From the moment I began to work alongside their organisation I knew that my time there would soon be at an end, and now, I can feel it like perspiration upon my skin.
After the event on Friday the 30th of November, the amount of duties that are left for me to achieve within the organisation is minimalistic at best, for all the work I had been doing up until then was leading up to the event in question; helping to market it; to get the word out to those who might wish to become involved; to co-ordinate with other like organisations and people to further strengthen the knowledge base; to develop flyers, posters and certificates, and many other organisational endeavours.
But this post was never meant to be a sad reminiscent piece on what has been and what has now ended. This is a reflection piece on what happened on the night in question.
The event was the International Poetry Competition which for the past three months I had been working upon with other staff members. The location was a seemingly unknowable site in Niagara Lane, right in the heart of Melbourne, Australia. Unlike other places, the location was one that could be seemingly overlooked due to its size, with passer’s by almost going about their day as if it was not there at all; not a part of their great city; for this rare gem blended in so well with the background as if to conceal its secrets.
The Gallery it is called.
Positioned in the basement of building 31 in the thin alley that is Niagara Lane, the small café/diner has a wide variety of delicious beverages, and although it is, as already mentioned, relatively small, size is not nearly everything as this place will prove to you, for it is the perfect little venue to cater for an event like the one we had going.
Often used for poets, writers and other like artistic personalities to perform their pieces to a small audience, the venue was perfect for our needs. I would like to thank the Gallery and its owners for allowing us access to such a sweet venue. Additionally, I would personally like to thank Randal Stephens, the MPU Vice President for finding such a beautiful little accommodation.
Apart from being the VP of MPU, Randal is additionally a poet in his own right, and his many fabulous pieces can be found at his blog here:
The event in question began at 7:30, on the dot almost. The man selected to preside over the event as judge, Dr. Homer Rieth, opened the event with a beautifully written and incredibly captivating speech that artistically, intelligently and fabulously described the relationship between people and poetry; why we write it, and why we love it so. This was, in but a sentence, the reason why we had all chosen to become a part of the Melbourne Poets Union, and why we were there to celebrate it that night.
Immediately after the speech, the thirteen individuals whose poetry had been awarded made their way up to the stage one by one and gladly read out their winning piece, before accepting the award that was presented to them. The few people who were unable to attend had others read their pieces out in their stead, and should be receiving their awards in the mail soon.
Congratulations to all those who won that night.
A break was issued immediately after, and by this time it was approximately 8:45 in the evening. It was now that the raffle was drawn, the two prizes been Santa’s Seduction Sack, which contained a number of interesting beverages and morsels that looked unbelievably delectable, and a small crate containing additional pieces of delicious loot. Although I bought nine tickets over the course of the night in regards to the raffle, I am rather ashamed to admit that I was unsuccessful. Due to how I had won a prize in the last raffle held by the MPU, I believed my luck would still favour me – an assumption gone wrong indeed.
After this, those who wished to perform pieces they believed deserved to be heard over the course of such an evening were happily listened to by the audience, before the President of the organisation, Wendy Fleming, and Secretary Di Cousens closed the event to thunderous applause.
It is to be considered ironic that setting up an event is usually easy, and putting everything away is a task that is long as it is tedious, but after everything which had happened, the hardship of putting everything away was well worth it when in contrast with the excitement of the night.
Thank you to all who participated in the event on Friday night, and thank you to all who submitted. Hope to see you all again next year!
Photo credits – Di Cousens and Nicholas McKay
Hello bloggers & readers.
I am not sure that I have ever mentioned this, but I am a volunteer with the Melbourne Poets Union. For more information on the union, please visit this fellow WordPress site:
What I will tell you is that the Melbourne Poets Union (MPU for short) is involved in preserving, practicing and providing poetry to Australians and to the world.
Now, at the moment we are running our annual competition. This year the poetry competition is being judged by Australian poet and academic scholar Dr. Homer Rieth, who we are very proud to have judging this event.
The submitted poems are to have 50 lines or less, and can be on any theme.
Each poem submitted however does require both an entry form (that can be found at this link):
and additionally requires a sum of either: $9 for 1 poem, $16 for 2 poems or $22 for 3 poems
Those who enter the competition go in to not only have their work published and have the opportunity to perform their work on stage (if you live in a country where it is not convenient to come all the way to the place Down Under then you do not have to), but go in to the draw to win $1,000 for first prize, $300 for second and $200 for third, with additional prizes been provided to those who are credited as Highly Commended pieces.
This competition is not only for Australians, so please, wherever you may be, if you wish to submit, we would love to read your work!
Thank you for reading, and to all the poets, rhymesters and other talented poetic writers out there, I hope you consider submitting!
If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask via the comment section at the end of this post!
Thank you again!
Below is a flyer for the competition:
For anyone who has read my former poem ‘Untitled Beauty’, one would know that I based the piece upon a beautiful young woman who dressed up as Jedi Master Aayla Secura from the Star Wars universe for a ComicCon. I do not know her true identity, and I would really appreciate it if someone in the world could actually tell me such information…the link to the image and additional info on this topic can be found in the ‘end notes’ section of the original Untitled Beauty post which can be found at this link: http://wp.me/p24LWs-2H
This here is not a love poem – no, it is a poem of longing,
about hope, prayer, fantasy, discovering oneself and belonging,
which begins as every morning inevitably does. The light breaks through a moderate sized hole in the wall; the ominous ‘they’ call it a window,
but I call it a distraction, for it wakes me from my slumber where I dream I strike up a conversation with a rare beauty by saying ‘hello’,
rare beauty who is you. All the money in the world cannot buy me another minute in this fabulous fantasy,
where I kissed your sumptuously luscious and tender lips and you held onto my big, broad shoulders oh so delicately,
and I fear, the only way to experience this moment once again, is to physically find you and express
‘you are the only lover Untitled Beauty I have been frequently and hopelessly attempting to impress,
for you are the only young woman in all the world, if not the known universe I am constantly thinking of,
my sumptuously delightful lady of whom I hope to forever and always unconditionally love.
It is true, and it is a fact that I do not dare deny, that never have either of us yet met,
but even with that said, you are a young beauty I can never easily in all my years forget,
and if I am supposed to move on from this fantasy, where am I supposed to move on to?
for no one else in this great round world could ever tame this heart of mine for no one else is you.
Additionally, if I am supposed to move on, where am I supposed to go?
for you are the single greatest adventure of all time that I will ever know.
It is also true that I do not know your name, but, my darling, it is a two way street. You could ask ‘what name do you go by?’ and I’d reply ‘you may call me Naughty Nefarious’
and a giggle may suddenly spring forth from the corner of your mouth. I swear it is no joke, for a name is a name, and mine is mine, for my world becomes so much more delicious
the second I lay my eyes upon your pretty face. I feel so invulnerable, but the truth of it all is, I really ain’t all that tough,
and I fear that those three words that mean so much, but also so little, for they are said too often, in regards to you, I have not said enough.
Ma’am, I am certain you grew up in America, where as I’m from down under, from a state far adjacent to that of Perth,
and it would most definitely seem from our noble beginnings when we were born, God wanted to give us both quite the wide berth.
I dedicated my life to writing and gaining a doctorate, whilst you dedicated yours to staying at home,
loyally watching over your loving family with respect, like an unflinching, always trustworthy garden gnome.
In your spare time you use your remarkably athletic form and go dancing in the grim shadows,
whilst back in Australia, not everything is the stereotypical gullies and meadows.
However, what the two of us have in common are the numerous stars that we watch at night, and the clouds all black and blue;
that unusually warm touch you feel right now upon your shoulders young lady – that’s me, romantically thinking about you,
for I frequently hunger for your passionate affection, and I swear I’ll starve without you near,
and I wish we weren’t separated by oceans and continents, I wish you were with me right here.
I often wonder what is happening with the world, and where the old one I once knew and loved inevitably went,
and why all of the once potent emotion is being poured into pain and horror, and if it is emotion well spent.
What happened to the age old conception ‘treat others the way you want to be treated’?
for in this world, truth justice and mercy are sacrificed, and true love is defeated.
I hope this inevitability ain’t my fate, and if so, I ask you, give me another toss at the game of luck, give me a second chance,
for although I ain’t no proud patriot who can fight through thick and thicker, I am a strong believer in emotion, reminiscence and romance,
and I can assure you, I would bleed on the Union Jack to make sure the faithful stripes stay bright red.
No matter whether I’m alive or in my time of dying, I feel there’s nothing more to be said,
but I would ask that you do not become overburdened with sad and depressing emotions and burst into tears for me, and that you happily smile in remembrance instead,
and if the world was plunged into war tomorrow, I would participate if it meant I could keep dreaming about you inside my head.
When imagining a fantasy world in which we know one another I can picture a location of common place where you’re listening to Metallica
over the radio, their awesome rock n’ roll classics ripping through the speakers as you loyally jam to their tunes, before introducing yourself as ‘Aayla.’
It must be an expensive persona you are living as we attempt to guess your origins. ‘No’ you say, ‘I ain’t from Launceston, and I ain’t from Maribyrnong.
No, I am from nowhere near here. Instead, I come from a different place entirely with traditional working man roots, where Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Wrecking Ball’ is the theme song;
where the widely renown Star Wars theme is sung every night before dinner;
where the biggest loser can almost always become the biggest winner.
That’s right ladies and gents, I come from the mighty United States, and I will certainly return there soon,
so if you’ve something to tell me I suggest you confess it real quick, and by that, I mean this afternoon,
cuz come tomorrow I’ll be long gone, and young man, you especially, will be left on your own,
and being a pure blooded California gal and a pseudo Australian I can tell you twice, it’s awful cold when you are all alone.’
I have this uncanny feeling inside my heart and soul, one where I believe legitimately to have already lost you once, but I promise I won’t lose you again twice,
and to this I can assure you to ensure my promise fulfilled, I will commit to anything you ask of me and do whatever you say and I would take any advice,
no matter how fruitless it may seem, for I am officially sick of being alone, and all of this empty space;
I am sick to my stomach at being away from you and wherever you want I will meet you, any time or place.
For if feeling good is a crime (and I’ve never felt this good until I laid my eyes upon you), someone had better lock me up right now cuz I feel fantastic,
and in regards to all of your truth and beauty, and all the love in your gorgeous heart, I have officially become an addict
for you. But when it comes to love, perhaps I am simply and without a doubt incompetent
cuz I fall madly in love way too easily. Then again, perhaps I am a delinquent
for failing to expertly spot the difference between human life, unconditional never ending love and horrifying misery,
but even with this said, if I were to die tomorrow, I would never want to go to Heaven, unless you were up there waiting for me.
To have you rare angel, I will delve deep into formidable places where no hero dare goes,
and upon hearing this you might reply ‘really? Well, tell me Pinocchio, how long is your nose?’
I am no liar, you have to believe me when I say I think I love you, and to ensure your survival, I’d push you out of the way of a nuke.
You won’t ever need to be a fabulously rich duchess for me to love you, but if you were, and you were to ask of me, I’d gladly be your duke.
After hearing these words Untitled Beauty, it might be best that you throw away your key after locking all your windows, and barring all the doors,
and make a pact with Satan, or pray to whomever God you solely believe in, for no existing mortal entity can save you anymore
from my love, which is invulnerable to harm. However, in reality, I have to ask you, in regards to romance, how can it be a good thing if those we love are doomed to die,
after pledging all of our allegiances and our love into their lives, and rare angels such as yourself succumb to destiny and perish, before plummeting out from the falling sky?
But if this unfortunate fate were to become yours, to get you back, I can assure you, I would traverse through the village of the damned,
if it meant eternal happiness could return to me again, and I could one day have my loving heart safely under your command.
When the world is at its darkest, and I’m drowning in the depression of the rain
I simply sit back and gladly admire your beautiful picture once again,
and imagine what you might ask me if we were to meet. You’d enquire ‘Derek, Naughty, whatever title you choose to go by’, before asking what I am going to do for you,
and I’d truthfully reply ‘I would take the stars right out of the night sky if such an act could prove my love alive and whole, and I would paint ‘em pink and purple and even pure gold too!’
It may sound completely out of this world insane, but what I say is not a total fabrication, and it certainly ain’t a ruse;
if given but one opportunity to spend my life with anyone, you are the only person I’d always faithfully choose,
because sweet Aayla impersonator, you are without a doubt one in 7.4 billion.
Dressing up in all those outfits moreover, you look exactly like a saucy chameleon;
you look incredible; you look beyond inhuman; you look flawless; you are perfect undoubtedly,
and with those luscious red lips and that sugar sweet smile I just know you are destined to belong with me.
Sometimes the darkness wakes me up and sometimes the silence speaks so loudly it is deafening to behold,
for whenever I am without you Untitled Beauty, I suddenly feel so indescribably cold,
because it is only in your eyes that I believe I have found where I eternally belong
and never until this moment which stands before me now have I felt so immeasurably strong.
However, in this inhospitable place, I fear I might be labeled the interloper, or the pariah
because of you my darling, for being all that I’ll ever want, all that I’ll ever need; for being my eternal desire,
and, to put a stop to this, people may light up their torches and sharpen their pitchforks too, before coming to claim me,
and will point to those who can corroborate that it was I, the antagonist, who acted with such vile villainy,
for all the boys who look upon you are filled with lustful gluttony, and the women become so jealous
at your unfathomable angelic beauty, and as for I, you make me so romantically ravenous.
Remember when I said this was not a love poem my dear? Well, I have to admit that perhaps I lied,
and if such be the case you could always blame it on the demon I have within this heart of mine inside.
I can assure you, I do not write these words in order to gain power, and I will certainly never need the likes of money or fame,
especially after I win over your beautiful beating heart, for then I will have everything I’ll ever need once it’s you I claim,
and although I still don’t quite know you, from your personality to your values, from your general likes and the neighborhood
you grew up in, judging by your looks alone, you deserve to be erected centre stage in the middle of Hollywood,
and then, once I’ve identified who you are and more, as promised, I’ll spend my life staring lovingly into your eyes forever.
The chance, if even there was one which I doubt, of me falling out of love with you my darling rests somewhere between naught and never,
so if you have ever had grave concerns, I ask that you ‘don’t fret, don’t cry and don’t ever believe
that feelings from your heart unto mine is not the one thing that I have always wanted to achieve.’
THANK YOU FOR READING!
SYNOPSIS: About the rekindling of a friendship that incorporated romanticised feelings after so many years of being apart, and the wish that this friendship could grow into something much more powerful and everlasting. The man in the story is broken to some extent, and whether this be physical or emotional is up to reader discretion.
You were born in north east Victoria, raised in Sydenham;
fell in love at age fourteen to a young man from north Melbourne.
Four years later that dream was over, he didn’t give love a second chance
and then you went to college where you studied gymnastics, drama and dance.
It was in that same year the both of us happened to meet so suddenly,
you were the smart attractive student, whilst the opposite was played by me.
When we met, the two of us were complete and utter strangers,
but inside my heart I felt such extraordinary changes.
When we first met and I told you my feelings, I could have instead not said a word,
but my heart, it said to me ‘I will not allow these strong feelings to go unheard.’
I would spend my life forever in your arms if given the choice,
moreover, I would do almost anything just to hear your voice.
One hundred is the number of days since last I laid eyes on your pretty face,
one million is the number of times I’ve thought of you since we met in that place.
I have thoughts of you, constantly, running throughout my mind,
true love together, in the future, we could one day find.
However, such written words, without action, are almost meaningless,
without the actual emotion they could never truly impress.
That is why I ask if we could meet up tomorrow yet again
and rekindle that age old flame, whilst making jokes with an old friend.
I may seem incredibly young, but I am not emotionally weak,
all of these thoughts and feelings I have buried inside me, I wish to speak;
and so instead they are typed up, in a badly written love poem,
it’s described this way for I’ve never written one with heart, soul and solemn.
Inevitably, only a stubborn fool could believe in love;
a fool I must be for falling for an angel from up above.
Intense, powerful and passionate emotions could easily begin
the moment I touch, taste and smell your divine and lusciously silky skin.
Immediately after this occurrence we could make true love for the first time,
an occurrence that for me, would be forever unto eternity; sublime.
Nothing could be better as I dance inside you; within your secret garden,
with its hydrated rainforest canopy and continuous seduction.
If you chose to live by my side I’d never need to have happiness or wealth,
yet another of the many things I wanted to accomplish for myself.
There have been so many things I’ve wanted to do which have been barred from my life;
I wanted to settle down, make a child; a daughter and have you as my wife.
Instead, I believe I can say without a flickering shadow of a doubt,
that you will never know how I feel for you until this life of mine runs out.
I wish when they spoke about ‘forever’ they’d be talking about us; me and you,
there is nothing else in this world I would ever dream of committing myself to.
When I look into the mirror, a broken man is all I ever see,
I wish you could bear witness to the romantic places inside of me.
I doubt you’ve ever seen my face for it’s hidden behind a mask of emotions,
if you don’t want to see me again just tell me and I’ll obey your instructions.
I’ll admit, I don’t want to remove from my heart someone who has left such a mark,
for when we first met you came to me like the brightest light in the gathering dark.
In truth I want to provide to you all the love in my heart and soul,
I believe I’m to be the man whose destiny is to make you whole.
Without you I am lost within the boundaries of the twilight zone,
I am exactly like that old dog who has lost his favorite bone.
All of the things that we have done we can always undo,
however, the one thing I would never replace – is you.
I am yet to realise if it’s you or my mind that I am losing,
if I don’t have you in my life it will be my heart that I’m abusing.
Inevitably I should use my heart before it is ground up into dust,
before I die I hope to give it to you; the only woman whom I lust.
All I have to give to you are these three words every day and night;
if only such words could constantly fill you with ravishing delight.
I do not have a million dollars, nor do I have handsome looks,
I could never provide to you the fairytale inside children’s books;
I do not have a luxurious car, nor do I have an amazing career;
could you ever sleep beside and love such a person? I don’t think you could I fear.
If you were to suddenly turn away and leave I would be forced to ask you ‘why?’
‘Have I not tried to give you everything?’ I would ask, as I began to cry.
I wish you could stay with me tonight to watch this life of mine unfold
and experience together the greatest love story never told.
However, we are constantly separated by forests, rivers and seas,
I cannot wait for you to one day return back home once more and marry me.
I dream of such an occurrence transpiring almost every single day;
I wish love could quit wearing a disguise and instead transform into a foray.
So please, tie your long hair back, put your perfume on and make your face look just so pretty
and then meet me, your man always and forever, in your local suburban city.
SYNOPSIS: About a young woman who left Melbourne, Victoria, to experience a life outside the city, and the repercussions of her leaving on the state. For she was no ordinary woman – no, she was the heart and soul of the city, and without her, everything was no longer as beautiful as it once was, paradise being inevitably lost.
A million Australian hearts are aching because we love you,
if you would close your eyes you can feel exactly as we do.
You should know deep down that one of those hearts indeed belongs to me,
like so many others you are my private stash of ecstasy.
Yet none of us will ever be able to feel your gentle touch
despite the each of us been cursed with this infatuated crush.
For you are the heart and soul of all that is Melbourne;
from the Yarra River all the way to St.Albans.
And if you should leave you would hear the sounds of all who have cried
for the night that you left is the night, that poor old Melbourne died.
I turn on my television and see your name on the six o’clock news
and then your face appears and I stare longingly into those baby blues.
When you left everybody they knew you, but then the city began to fall,
it would appear through such actions that none of us really ever knew you at all.
When we used to sit together I should have tried to make conversation
because your leaving inevitably caused all of this devastation.
It would appear that not confessing these feelings was a terrible mistake,
the final one of such gargantuan magnitude that I shall ever make.
And now that I’m alone, I’d give up forever just to see you again,
for you are the heart and soul of this city, being my lover and close friend.
I would have said something to you but I always get so nervous
and I feared you had a boyfriend I would not want to make jealous.
If I had tried to confess my feelings you would have known you had my full attention
for my lips would have failed to move as I attempted to conduct conversation.
My big, wide brown eyes would have been all that expressed the truth;
that I am forever and undoubtedly cursed to never stop loving you.
I would have told you how I feel and asked if you hunger for me,
for you are my angel; the only one I ever see.
I would confess I feel the urge to have you crawling underneath my skin
and said ‘the hell with it’ if I was considered to be living in sin.
Usually in this alternate universe I’d have been incredibly shy
but on this one, fictitious occasion I do believe I caught your eye.
I was strung out and lost, without any sense of bravery,
but you helped provide to me my missing masculinity.
On that night it would have been both our first time, during which I felt I died
and on this hypothetical night we made love, you turned your back on me and began to cry.
You would compare our love to a boat on the ocean being pushed forward by oars,
‘this was mine’ you would say, indicating your body, ‘but now all this is yours.’
But the fates or whatever have permanently barred me from you
and I guess this fantasy world I live in will have to make do.
In truth I am only half the man you need me to be
although I have been caught by your embracing melody.
You have put a spell over me as you have over every man you’ve ever met,
your radiant appearance is the one thing I’ll never be able to forget.
Compared to you we are but flotsam lying under the city lights
whilst you soar gracefully up above, being our radiant satellite.
For not confessing these feelings I especially am sorry
but one day I might open up my heart once I’ve found the glory.
And when that day does come I shall tell you ‘you are my queen’,
I’m sure many other men know exactly what I mean.
Everything I have failed to achieve can never be undone
and the feelings I have for you are constantly on the run.
For my feelings are a lost and broken ship at the mercy of the sea
constantly fighting for survival and hoping one day you’ll notice me.
Because you are the great lighthouse, which is positioned in the harbour,
waiting patiently for the right ship to arrive and be your lover.
There you are so graceful, captured in the simplest and most purest of ways,
your light, which is so eloquent, constantly shining every single day.
If only it were so easy to tell you how I feel
then perhaps I could take you out for an exquisite meal.
But I know all of these feelings are a result of an infatuation,
at least that is the opinion I have acquired from this one assumption.
The strongest thing in this city would undoubtedly be your spirit,
the one thing in all of Melbourne that none of us could ever edit.
If your presence were to ever leave I would feel so lonely and out of place
and inevitably I would be caught by the memory of your embrace.
I would undoubtedly remember how I stumbled all my life,
until I laid my eyes on you, wishing for you to be my wife,
for you are the young woman who shall save all of our lives;
and save each and every one of us from our own demise.
If I had written a diary, you would be in every single line,
describing your beauty on every page which is just so sublime.
By writing my feelings down no longer would they be trapped behind a barren door,
in reality this facade of mine is something I can’t keep up no more.
Since meeting you my life has changed and has ultimately not been the same;
I am proud to say although I do not write it down that I know your name.
I, like so many other men, find myself wishing to turn back time;
I too, like every other man, wish that someday you could be mine.
But then reality bites, the curtain falls and all the lights come up
and I know deep down that this fantasy world will never be enough.
If you should ever disappear, who will ever take your place,
for there is nobody in this world with such a pretty face.
And just like a river runs directly out to sea
I would wish that someday you would return to this city.
And perhaps a miracle would occur and you would return someday,
when that day does come, everything, will inevitably be okay.
But until this day does come fantasy and reality cannot relate
and the penalty I’ve been endowed is that my mind cannot think straight.
Until the day you do return, in my heart you are a runaway train
and all of my feelings for you, which are locked away, beg to be explained.
Everyone of us inside this state are filled with a great amount of pity,
each and every one of us praying for the survival of our city.
If I had to take your place to protect this city I know that I could
if you told me to be yours forever I know I undoubtedly would.
But until that day comes we drink ourselves down to new lows,
the love each of us has for you continuing to grow.
For you are the heart and soul of all that is Melbourne,
from the Yarra River all the way to St.Albans.
And if you should leave you would hear the sounds of all who have cried
for the night that you left is the night, that poor old Melbourne died.