Colours

Have you ever touched the gold of the sun,
Or the blue of the moon?
Have you ever caught the grasses' green,
Or grasped the spots of the loon?
Can you sing to the red of the flowers,
Or smile to the white of the dove?
Have you ever laughed with the mountain tops,
Or watched a wolf fall in love?
How long has it been since you painted the sunset,
How long since you coloured the snow?
How long has it been since you stood still,
And let yourself fall into the rainbow?

I Could Have

I could have been outside today,
I could have played a game,
I could have eaten something new,
I could have found a lion to tame.

I could have bought a brand new book,
In fact I could have wrote it,
I could have built myself a boat,
And then learned how to float it.

I could have taken Spanish classes,
In that new school down the road,
I could have gone to the swamp,
And caught myself a toad.

I could have made a brand new friend,
I bet her name would have been Jane,
We could have bought new wellingtons,
And splashed out in the rain.

I could have learned how to ride,
A mighty black fast steed,
We could have had an adventure,
Running at a frightening speed.

I might have done my homework,
And maybe proof read it too,
My teacher wouldn't be mad at me,
If I'd had it done when it was due.

But, no I didn't do those things,
When I really should have done.
I sat in front of the telly today,
I watched the things I could have done.

Breakfast

A cup of tea that's way too milky,
An egg that broke in the pot,
A piece of toast that's gone all soggy,
A sausage that's really lost the plot.

A bagel with a mouldy spot,
A orange that is mushy inside,
Cereal that's broke to bits,
Bacon with grizzle I can't hide.

Just another day i guess,
In a world that's just a mess.

Red Wine

In his burgundy hues do I sit,

And quietly contemplate,

The deepest thoughts in my shadowy mind,

Hidden in a dark unlabeled crate.

Under his swirling blood red,

I isolate my fears,

And they grow in the darkness of my mind,

Where there listen no other ears.

In his clutches I'll lose my head,

In his grip I'm naked, I'm not disguised,

He can see who I am, all my flaws,

A dangerous monster despised.

And no one will know what's happened,

'Cause I sit alone in my room,

Where the shadows await me in corners,

In the closets the elephants loom.

Only he can see me now,

Delicate, elegant, refined,

Only the blood red glass knows the secrets,

In which my ugliness is defined.

My Spring Poem

The time has come once again,

To forget the cold winter's bite,

The trees awaken from their silence,

To raise green buds to new sun's light.

Time to raise your song, you birds,

Till the seeds open bleary eyes,

And hear the sounds of babbling brooks,

Under pale blues in youthful skies.

The flowers stretch their stalks,

And the grass pokes through the earth,

The sparrow perches on a green spotted branch,

And the trees rejoice in their rebirth.

A lady bird flits through clean cool air,

And a doe pricks up her ears,

A mountain sighs in the sun new rays,

As the lake's fresh water clears.

Nothing compares to the first spring day,

When the sun shakes off its cold suit,

And the blankets have melted away from the earth,

Giving way to the first tulip shoot.

What's wrong with loving Disney?

So it's been a while. I admit I may have forgotten about my blog for several...months. With the Junior Cert coming up and all the studying I feel I have to do to achieve an acceptable grade, there doesn't seem to be a lot of time in between to just sit down and write. So forgive my absence, but I do have exams. I've also rediscovered a great passion for drawing overly the last couple months. It seems to come in waves. First I'm totally obsessed about writing, can't take fingers off the keyboard, then suddenly I've got pencil to paper creating some character from the depths of my teenage muddled brain. The newest addition to my artistic endeavours include a kick ass crime fighting team. At first they were pretty bland characters with no really personalities. Then I brought them into school. I might mention my friends are creative geniuses. All I have to do is draw a blob on a scrap of paper and they'll turn that blob into a Einstein-esc professor with three children and a pony. Anyway, I brought my three characters into school and it was as if I was taking them to God for them to be turned into really people. "I'm a real boy!" as Pinocchio would say. As soon as I pulled them out of my folder, they had personalities as big as the Eiffel Tower and pasts as complicated as physics. This guy was full of himself, she was a mysterious character, he's "feckin gorgeous"! It's so wonderful, I think, to see teenagers at our age still creating, still imagining. Often it seems, people of our age lose interest in the creative side, lose the passion younger minds hold so dear. I bloody love it! This creative ability will defiantly help when I start working for Disney. How brilliant would that job be? To design the characters that everyone loves so much. To be that name at the end of a heartwarming animation. Some people say I'm too immature, I think I've just gotten over the whole being mature thing and decided it so isn't worth it. It's no fun when loving something so... beautiful is uncool. I don't know how other teenagers live with that kind of attitude. Who decided Winnie the Pooh is so uncool? Why can't I still grow up to be Cinderella? What's wrong with watching Beauty and the Beast instead of No Strings Attached or Black Swan?