Poetic Sauce

Life in the Balance - Haiku

2012-07-31T21:45:00.000+01:00

Life in the balance

Helpless without direction

My path uncertain

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi all, i'm back from another trip to West Africa, i'm living the life of Bear Grylls at the moment, running up and down mountans in the wildrness mixing it with dangerous snakes, spiders and nasty insects that see you as the next meal. I'll return when I get chance, its been a crazy year!

I hope my fellow blogging friends are all well and i'll catch up with you all soon :) x

Note: the pic is of me on the edge of the awesome Half Dome in Yosemite National Park USA

I'm back from Africa :) for less than a week

2012-02-13T23:28:00.001+00:00

Hi friends,

After 5 weeks i've returned home safe and sound from the Republic of Guinea. It is however a brief rest bite, as I return to Guinea again on Sunday for another 3 week project.

Its been yet another eye opening and purely awe inspiring experience to a place where smiles are worth their weight in gold, and friendship is far more than superficial, its a life long bond of mutual respect.

I've felt the warm breath of the sun caress my soul as I've sat motionless looking across a never ending vista into a firey heart. I've engaged in work tasks in areas owned by nature and its guardians, where mans presence either goes un-noticed or can be deemed a complication by its indigenous population of both flora and fauna. I've walked through utopia and have been blessed with sights I will take to my grave and in contrast I've been exposed to a vast array of natures demons that may dictate the length of your life!!!

So yet again I shall bid you all farewell for another month. I've now got to remove myself from the internet and dedicate my remaining time to extensive planning, logistics and preparations before my boarding gate is called..

Be safe everyone and I will check out your blogs when I return in March x

West Africa here I come!!!

2012-01-06T17:49:00.003+00:00

Hi friends and readers,

In the past couple of months my life has accelerated at warp speed proportions which has resulted in me being very quiet in Blogland. 2012 is already beginning to look pretty epic, and on Sunday I fly out to work in West Africa for a month. I'll be working in a very remote location, so internet connection will be very limited and blogging non existent. I will be continuing to return to Africa and the UK during 2012, so I will endeavour to read blogs as soon as I can. I will catch you all on the other side as soon as the great internet signals in the sky converge on an area where my laptop is residing.

I wish everyone best wishes for 2012.. keep the creative juices flowing....

♥ Peace, Love and Harmony ♥

Right let the packing commence :)) x

Beneath the Scars

2011-11-16T22:01:00.022+00:00

Important: I like to listen to the views of my readers to enhance my creativity (see comments below). So to try and illustrate the depth of the poem I modified my face using photoshop (incorporating the scar from an old mountain bike injury).

What do you see?

Skin or disfigurement

Are you unsure?

Yet to make judgement

Reach out your touch,

What do you feel?

Tell me your thoughts

What do they reveal?

Listen to your heart

What does it say?

Does it tell you to run?

Or tell you to stay?

Show your true colours

Tell me no lies

No more blank canvas

I’d rather goodbyes

For beneath this scar

I continue to live

Look beyond my surface

I've so much to give

I hope you like my poem, i' m sure many will relate to its underlying deeper meaning.

Beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder....... the question is ...... What do you see ??????

♦ ♦ ♦ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

The scar on my face above was taken from this photograph. The picture was taken in 2006, a couple of weeks after having surgery to repair a snapped radius bone; the result of a nasty mountain bike crash. Lets just say, it healed beautifully and i'm as good as new :)

Additional information since my original post

Many thanks Fiona for the constructive criticism and helping me enhance my creative edge. Its good to listen. Your words are wise, you are correct, the scar on the arm can be covered and masked unlike those that are permanently visible. When I started this blog i promised myself to use or creatively modify my own pictures. I opted to change my profile picture using photoshop to add facial imperfections. I hope it doesnt offend anyone, its purely to highlight surface vs deep beauty.. Think past what is visible, for true warmth radiates from the core.. Thanks. Paul x

The Inevitable End

2011-11-09T23:16:00.018+00:00

As death approaches

I await the inevitable

There is no escape

The end is nigh

My fate is sealed

I have prayed
Yet I remain invisible

My eyes are tired

Limbs are lifeless

My heart grows cold

I’ve played the game

I’ve won and lost

Today its checkmate

My tomb awaits

Its time to sleep

♦ ♣ ♠ ♦ ♣ ♠ ♦ ♣ ♠ ♦ ♣ ♠ ♦ ♣ ♠ ♦ ♣ ♠

This is of total contrast to the 'love' based poems I've been writing recently. Today I was looking through some of my photos from past winter hiking/ climbing trips that have involved an element of risk. I then tried to imagine what it may feel like to be a climber trapped on a remote ledge, with no logical way to escape, in adverse weather conditions, injured, isolated, with death knocking on the door. It can even happens on the smaller UK mountains during our harshest winters, when the sub-zero temperatures combine with high winds to produce conditions which are almost unbearable.

The climber in my poem has resided him/herself to the fact that his/her circumstance is beyond resolve. This poem is not about someone with options, they have all been exhausted bar divine intervention. I originally had plans on expanding the poem, using more focussed mountaineering/ climbing terminology, but when I looked over the lines, I decided to keep it short and direct; to show the strength of an extremist. This is someone who has followed his/her dreams without any regret and with the abscence of fear. The person above has reached the point of realisation and is simply lifting a virtual glass to toast the end of his/her life before giving him/herself to the darkness.

Photographs:- Sub zero temperatures, high winds and snowstorms while en-route towards the frozen, cloud covered summit of Y-Garn in Snowdonia, Wales, UK.

The Mysterious Lady of Bletchley Castle (Short Story)

2011-11-03T00:48:00.036+00:00

Shortly after midnight the festivities came to end. It had been a glorious lighthearted evening filled with music, wine, laugher and the usual dissection of the past. We each said our fond farewells before switching on our internal compasses and heading off into the shadows.

I absolutely adored the early morning walk back to our ‘old cottage’. I spent many hours as a child running wild in its garden, learning to understand the importance of nature and balance, absorbing the seasonal fragrances while I watched my mother and father grow old gracefully. I can remember running outside on the coldest winters morning, my small mitts attached to the safety lines around my wrists, my ears covered with a hand made hat made from a kaleidoscope of Aran wools. My father would run up and swing me around in his arms before planting me firmly in the deepest snowdrift. At the end of the garden, my parents would sit beneath the winter flowering Jasmine, huddled together in blissful harmony, hand in hand, the warmth from their hearts melting the snow beneath.

As I grew older, the house became my sanctuary, my haven, a place where I could sit in solitude, dream and reminisce. I still smile as I return home each evening, to hear the laughter from family members long departed echoing in its timbers, to physically touch the scars, to be thankful for every special moment this old cottage has brought me. I often sit beside the open fire, watching the flames angelically dancing before my eyes while my mind replays images of a golden era in my life. This house is truly alive. It continues to breath life even after death, it resonates contentment. The souls of my parents remain embedded in every conceivable corner, in every beam of light that cascades through the darkness.

I decided to take a slightly longer route home that evening, past the old rectory, through a small pocket of ancient oak woodland and out onto the meadow overlooking a sinister, yet somewhat beautiful medieval Bletchley Castle. It was mid December, the air was crisp, and an early morning frost lay beneath my feet as I walked slowly through the darkness.

Mrs Harvey lives in the Old Rectory with her husband, a retired gardener from the Harris Estate. It was 3am and her light was still on in the kitchen. I could see her standing in front of the long Georgian window decanting into small glass jars, the pureed fruits of a bountiful autumnal harvest. She was locally renown for her ability to survive on a paltry amount of sleep, but also for her home baking. I could clearly smell the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting in the most gentle of breezes.

Opposite the village well, I turned onto the secluded bridleway that weaves through stands of Old English Oak; now tarnished with stories of sacrifice, mystical happenings and Cromwellian tales. By day it is pure art, an ensemble of twisted bows and grotesque looking branches. By night, it torments with your mind and your senses. It is not a place for the faint hearted! It had been my playground as a youngster. I had my first kiss with Jenny Porter, a quick peck, nothing more, but it was enough to make that woodland feel eternally special and inviting.

Crossing over the stile, I could hear the faint whispers of the tall meadow grass as it gently swayed backwards and forth; ice chrystals clinging to its wilted seed heads sparkled in the moonlight. The 'meadow' is a vast area of common land covering most of the southern flank of Little Alton. In the summer it is filled with the noise of hyperactive children and the fragrance of Wild Campion, Evening Primrose, Buttercup and Cowslip. I have fond memories of post school evening excursions with my father. We would spend hours picking Parasol Mushrooms beneath the most beautiful crimson sunsets, while mother waited patiently back at the cottage, often flower arranging or reading the latest book club romance novel.

Standing prominent, high upon a sweeping hillside on the periphery of the meadow, are the high walls of Bletchley Castle. I had always been perplexed at how time and advesrse events had managed to bypass this architectural splendour. It had survived peasant revolts, world wars and centuries of uncontrollable weather, yet it still stood without imperfection, belittling its location. For decades my parents told me folk tales of love, despair and tragedy between dukes, princesses, and kings, stories that had been passed down through the Little Alton gene pool; stories of ghosts, strange happenings; stories that one day would burn my soul and make me question my own sanity....

............................................................................................

Suddenly, without any scientific reason, I found myself detached from the ground, gazing through the darkness across the valley toward Bletchley Castle. I was suspended in space and time. The gentle breeze and the moonlit sky had vanished, replaced by the brightest, purest, unearthly light. Beneath my feet, the frozen ground gave way to the most verdant spring pasture I had ever seen. In the distance, a pure white mist gently caressed the base of the castle walls, while rich red English Roses, purple Wisteria and Wild Ivy climbed gently towards the infinite sky. Suddenly the harmonic sound of a heavenly choir took over my senses. I felt so at peace; it felt safe, sweet angels blowing the purest tones through my ears.

..... Then she appeared .....

Thanks Fiona xOx (The Princess Passions Blog)

She was bewitching and angelic, beauty personified. Although in the darkness of reality she was some distance away, it felt like I could just reach out and touch her, hold her in my arms. In bare feet she walked precariously along the edge of the highest parapet, her dainty hands aiding her balance, her long black hair falling about her shoulders. She was wearing the most elegant white lace dress, showing the curves of her shapely figure. I was drawn to her without any self control. I was truly under her spell and at her mercy.

Suddenly the choir stopped; only deathly silence filled the air. For a single moment I could hear my every heart beat. She turned to face me, her eyes as black as coal, pallid skin akin to the underworld, but she was so enchanting, a radiant goddess. She lifted her arms and held them out towards me before moving her feet onto the lip of the towering wall. I was helpless. I could do nothing. My entire body was flushed with anguish. I sensed a lifetime of pain, my hands seemed wet with her tears. She was trying to tell me something. Maybe it was a secret? Maybe she was feeding off my warmth? She was at the end of a journey. I was witnessing the last burning embers of a tortured spirit. She hung her head low, rested her chin on her chest, closed her eyes then stepped out into the light….

I awoke at 6am at the spot where her life ended, my body coated with a fine dusting of snow. What happened? How did I get here? I remember Mrs Harvey, the moonlight, the majestic oaks, the meadow, the thoughts of curling up in front of the open fire! But who was that beautiful lady? Was she real? Am I going insane? Thats it, I'd had too much to drink and i ended up here in a drunken stuper, its the only logical explanation, it had to be!!!

................ Then I opened my hand to reveal frozen teardrops wrapped in rose petals .............

*THE END*

I hope you enjoyed reading my short fictional story. My apologies if you found it too long. Its a fictional soup of aspects of my daily reality, rural English living, my love for the outdoors, my romantic edge and my respectful family upbringing.

The beautiful Caernarfon Castle in North Wales is shown in the photos.

Beyond what is Visible

2011-10-25T23:03:00.003+01:00

"I've not got depression or low self esteem, I just like the view"

Thoughts: Things in life are never quite what they seem…

With love comes pain, with death comes life…

What appears to be negative, may actually be positive…

What appears logical in your mind, may not be transparent in you soul...

When the cold heart of winter lies dormant on the ground, life continues to flourish beneath…

In Memory of Marco Simoncelli

2011-10-23T23:39:00.009+01:00

Today i was going to write a poem. I had ideas in my mind, but my heart aches at the sad news that Marco Simocelli, an up and coming star of the MotoGP circuit (motorcycle racing), died today after being involved in a tragic racing accident in Sepang.

Marco, 24, was a joyful character with the ability to light up a room. When you watched him glide almost effortlessly around a race track, pushing the limits of both man and machine, you just knew he had found his calling in life. He was the kind of guy most would envy. You could picture him waking up each morning, with intense beams of sunlight shining through his soul. His entire aura was fuelled by his passion and his zest for life. Marco was an inspiration, a young and wise ambassador, a shining star. May his family, friends and fans be consoled in the knowledge that he died following his dreams. He died feeling alive.

RIP Marco.. your legacy will live on and you will have inspired many more to follow in your footsteps. May your memory be carried through history on the winds of time. You can follow his story on the WWW and see the fitting tributes from thousands of his followers.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THOUGHTS: As with any tragic accident, whether directly or indirectly linked to our own presence, the ripples generated shake up the foundations of our existence, and make us question the fabric of our soul. We often take for granted our daily lives and feel humble when we open our eyes each morning, but do we actually fully appreciate what we have? Do we take the time and make the effort to contact those we care about, those special people that help complete our being? Do we know the names of our neighbours? Do we feel the energy of the sun warming our core each morning or only the cold taste of despair? Do we feel like we have achieved the impossible? Do we feel alive? Such questions are undoubtedly on 'Thought Blogs' far and wide, but these are questions we should try and ask ourselves on a daily basis.

We have all been given the chance of life and the clock continues to tick. Give those you care about a big hug, follow your dreams and let your heart be your guide.

Best wishes to everyone. Paul x

When I Find Miss Right

2011-10-22T21:36:00.001+01:00

(Click on image for a larger view)

Salty Tears (Haiku)

2011-10-15T18:59:00.005+01:00

Taken from my arms

Forever beneath the waves

Endless salty tears

I've received a 'Versatile Blogger Award' :o)

2011-10-14T23:45:00.028+01:00

I would just like to say thank you very much to Fiona from the excellent Princess Passions Blog for awarding me with the 'Versatile Blogger Award', your kind words have inspired me more than ever to push forward with my creative side :o)) Fiona writes exquisitely, and her thoughts and verse are warming and heartfelt. Please check out her blog. Best wishes Fiona and thanks again x

As part of accepting the award i'm to say 7 random things about myself, so here goes ;o)

1) I find hills and mountains truly magical. They feed my soul and keep my physical presence energised. I love to feel on top of the world, literally.
2) I’m a lover of anything atmospheric; sunsets, starry skies, mist-clad valleys, tormenting seas, storms, windswept beaches, vast open deserts etc. I can become immersed in the occasion to a point of drowning.

3) I'm a bit of a dreamer, but i will do everything in my powers to make dreams become a reality.
4) I'm 6’4” (193cm), a Virgo, and I’m a bit of a perfectionist.
5) I'm very loyal and respectful. I'd rather be the good guy that finishes last, than a rebel in disguise. As long as I go through life safe in the knowledge that i am true to myself, then I'm happy :o)

6) I have a tendency to put others first. Many say its my downfall, I say its because I have a big heart and I’m a decent person.
7) I'm just a little bit crazy at times, but in a nice fun loving way :o)

I could add so much more to this list, so much more... I love life!

Thanks again Fiona for the award :o) and to everyone else for all the lovely comments and support. I'm looking forward to passing on this award to 6 fine blogs at some point in the future.

You all help complete my heart and make me smile. Paul x

Times Not Forgotten

2011-10-10T20:07:00.007+01:00

She walked with grace and elegance

A beauty unrefined

Her skin softer than the finest silk

Our souls they were entwined

She pulled me from the darkest depths

To live within the light

My days they now had purpose

She brought brightness to my night

I’d found that special someone

We dreamt of what may be

Held each other oh so tight

Spoke of love eternally

A garden that was once in bloom

Began to wilt and die

I lost my Rose to the heavens

A final kiss and then goodbye

Taken from the world we know

To the angels she has gone

Never sadness, only joy

In my heart my Rose lives on

Nothing lasts forever

Our destination it awaits

One day I’ll see her smile again

As she waits beside the gates

Heat of the Moment (Haiku)

2011-10-04T22:51:00.014+01:00

Steamy encounter

Mother Nature blissful sigh
Old Faithful erupts

Why Me? (It Still Hurts Beyond Words)

2011-10-03T00:13:00.010+01:00

I shiver

       Trapped in a closet of fear

              Sweating profusely
              Talking to an absent logic

I knew they would come

Leeches

Living parasites

Hoping for a quick meal

Unguarded they pounce

Relishing in their glory

Tasting their prey

Swollen

Bruised

Euphoric they taunt

Yellow Belly

Outsider

Nerd

Do not tell a soul

We know where you live

Or else !!

Reasoning is not an option

Dignity in pieces

See you again on Thursday.. loser !!!

Lost in Sadness

2011-09-25T13:51:00.010+01:00

Without shadow I walk alone

A solitary ghost without a guide

No shelter to call my home

I’ve nowhere left to run and hide

My loving heart cast out

Deep into the rain

With no one there to hear me

To understand my pain

Tormented by the voices

Life is harder than before

A lack of understanding

A smile a daily chore

Standing at the crossroads

My spirit has run dry

I’m numb from top to bottom

No more acid tears to cry

Burnt twisted timbers

Embers of the past

They stain my very essence

Forever they will last

Two Seconds Flat (Humourous Haiku)

2011-09-18T00:00:00.009+01:00

I am a goldfish

I have a short memory

I am a goldfish

Blanket of Bilberry

2011-09-17T00:47:00.052+01:00

I close my eyes and stretch out amongst the Bilberry.

Mother Natures tender arms pull me ever closer to her earthly heart.

In the absence of noise my mind is still.
Blissful Monastic silence helps me retreat into ones true existence.

The warmth of the morning sun sends a trickle charge to my soul.

White light dances with excitement beneath my eyelids.

I quiver, as the early dew, sparkling and pure, gently kisses my soft skin.

Exposed flesh tainted with the fragrance and colour of a bountiful harvest.

A small heath butterfly sits motionless refuelling upon its twisted perch.

Graceful, conspicuous, it’s sheltered from its darkest nightmares.

Slender Cotton Grass, seed heads a ghostly white, whisper a haunting melody.

Each blade caressed by a faint breeze straight from the heavens.

Hiding amongst the Bilberry I'm invisible to the world.

Society is oblivious to my existence.

There is no confusion, no hysteria, and no distraction.

In the vast upland wilderness, I am truly without boundaries.

Dark Isolation

2011-09-13T01:43:00.013+01:00

I float aimlessly with no direction

In front of me

a vast open space

an endless horizon

Through the calmest of days

I am tortured by the isolation

Through the greatest of storms

I seek shelter but none is given

When I stand tall

my spine aches with the weight of my soul

When I make friends with the light

darkness appears and rips out its heart

I try to make peace with life

to be tormented by the sewer rats that manifest in my mind

If loneliness was the killer

then I should now be with generations long departed

But I’m here

walking the infinite treadmill of life

hoping one day to find that resting place

to find somewhere to belong ....

Chocolate Longing

2011-09-13T01:27:00.013+01:00

My taste buds, floods, with pure desire,

just one more piece will send me higher.

It’s so wrong, but so right,

it’s so naughty, pure delight.

Just tonight, then no more

one last taste, or three or four.

Rolls off my tongue, between my lips,

added weight upon my hips.

Bitter, sweet, black or white,

I dream of you each every night.

But isn’t there a healthy part,

Chocolatey goodness helps my heart.

It also makes me feel alive,

and what about the old sex drive!

You’re a friend I love to hate,

here comes the excessive weight.

A craving that I just cant mend,

you’ll be my downfall in the end.

Its not like I look obese

I think i'll just have one more piece