Poem of inspiration

Poem of inspiration

What shall I write when my inspiration is lost?

Shall I create a poem no matter the cost?

In times when thoughts run dry…

…will it even matter if I try?

Will the writing itself create a feeling of urge

To bring my imagination to its verge?

The imagination is still there

I can still feel it everywhere

It whispers all around me

Bringing to life the things I see

A deserted landscape of stones

Reminds me of bare scraped bones

Like a graveyard the boulders stand…

…pointing out the apparent lifelessness of the land.

Not a soul wanders over its surface…

…in fear of being trapped in its deadly maze

And become one with the earth.

A silent lake with its deep green water

Becomes the home for gigantic beast to slaughter

They haunt at midnight in total silence…

…bringing death with their violence.

So what shall I write when my inspiration is lost?

Is a poem to be created no matter the cost?

Is it true that when thoughts run dry…

That it is useless to even try.

Or did the writing itself bring my imagination to the verge?

Did it bring to forth my desire and urge?

E-writing assignment 4

Freja’s Poem

In a boat out at sea was a couple in distress.

It was the lack of condoms that brought to them a mess.

In their deepest dreams they had never guessed that they would be trapped at sea.

For a week they had believed they were never more to be.

The dark moment of death had awoken their desire.

Like a plague with lethal outcome it had tangled itself around them like a wire.

Now they lay in each others arms, skin to skin.

That simple gesture brought to them freedom from within.

The man placed his lips around the woman’s nipple sucking it hard.

The woman brought her hand down to the man’s special yard.

Oh Freja, the goddess of love, looked at them and thought like this.

They are making love more often now when they are not afraid to kiss.

It seems like I will have to maintain them in this isolated state.

That’s the only way I will ever make them mate.

But then someone whispered, can’t you see, they are afraid?

Is it really this way you want you future children to be made?

Nonsense, Freja said, they are just filled with lust.

If they are at home they each other no longer will trust.

They would just argue without any sex at all.

If everyone behaved like them, no one would listen to my call.

I will rock them to shore in nine months, to give birth.

And then they will help me to repopulate the earth.

And in the boat, as they feared for their lives, they chose to ignore protection.

In a moment of ecstasy they found that special connection.

Later a child conceived at sea rested lightly on her mothers shoulder.

How to mate, Freja thought, is something I will teach her as she grow older.

E-writing assignment 3

Books and friendships

To get to know a person is like reading a book.

The first step is to buy the look.

If the cover isn’t flattering at all,

the whole concept of the book may fall,

and resting it will on its shelf,

where it will deteriorate in health,

and finally fall into pieces.

The second step is to read the summary to get an over all picture.

That helps you see the elements of which the book is a mixture.

If it catches your attention,

it may not be placed in suspension,

but be brought home to an armchair.

The third step is to open the book, to read a few pages.

Hopefully you will find that the book is close to contagious.

And on you will read,

while growing from a seed,

the friendship of a lifetime.

The limerick

There once was a devil from Hell

Who owned an old dark deep well

A soul he then caught

And downward he brought

It into his special made cell

The nonnet

Gracefully the sun awakes at day

Bringing happiness, no dismay

Showing people a new way

Giving them words to say

Telling them they may

Another day

Find a way

Just say

day

E-assignment 2

Dialogue 1: A childlike creature dressed in muddy rags is rudely awakened from her sleep by what appears to be an inquisitive leprechaun prodding her with an oak twig.

The child: Who are you?

Leprechaun: (Jumping up and down and still prodding the child with the twig) Who am I? Who are you? Who is who?

The child: Stop doing that! It hurts!

Leprechaun: (Looking at the child with slightly tilted head and excited eyes) You’re very tiny, do you know that?

The child: (Sulking) Yes I know that! What’s wrong with that!

Leprechaun: And you are very muddy to. And you stink. Where are you from?

The child: I don’t stink! I’m just muddy because I have no where to go.

Leprechaun: Don’t you have a mother to take care of you?

The child: No…

Leprechaun: What has happened to her?

The child: (sobbing) I lost her.

Leprechaun: So you lost her. From which pocket? (Laughing at his own joke)

The child: (looking angry but confused) It’s not funny! I will never find her again.

Leprechaun: Of course you will find her again. Where did you lose her?

The child: Over by the lake.

Leprechaun: What lake?

The child: The one in the forest.

Leprechaun: There are many lakes in the forest.

The child: (Starting to sob again) I will never find her.

Leprechaun: Come on, no tears, I will help you find her.

The child: But how?

Leprechaun: (holding up a green plant toward the child) With my magical four - leaf-clover.

The child: Is it really magical?

Leprechaun: It is. And if you use it, anything you wish for will come true.

The child: Really?

Leprechaun: (handing over the four-leaf-clover to the child) Really really.

The child: (closing her eyes) I’m wishing now.

Leprechaun: (Starring at a big bag of candy on the ground) What on earth! I thought you wanted to know where your mother is.

The child: But I wanted some candy.

Leprechaun: Ohh….What are we going to do now?

The child: Can’t I wish ones more?

Leprechaun: It only works once.

The child: (Starting to cry)

Leprechaun: Alright…Alright…don’t cry. I will help you find your mother anyway.

The child: (throwing herself into the leprechaun’s arms and giving him a kiss on his cheek) Thank you!

Dialogue 2: It’s five a clock in the morning and a slightly drunk 16 years old girl stumbles in after a night out with her friends. In the hall way her mother, who by no means has given her permission to be out this late, is waiting.

- There you are!

- (Stumbling a little while trying to take of her shoes) Yeah…here I am.

- What the hell do you think you are doing?

- (Still struggling with her shoes) What?

- I have been waiting up all night for you!

- What for?

- For you! Are you stupid!

- No

- And I have called the mothers of all of your friends!

- Why?

- To know where you were!

- So….

- So….what do you mean so. Have you no respect for my feelings!

- I just don’t see…

- Right! You just don’t see, do you! That’s typical you! I have been waiting for you all night and I’m going to work in three hours!

- So…I don’t see why that is my problem.

- You don’t see….You don’t see…..!

- Don’t get all worked up about nothing now mother.

- I do not get all worked up about nothing! You are just 16 and you’re drunk!

- So…

- What do you mean so!

- What does it matter?

- You’re drunk!

- Maybe.

- What do you mean maybe!

- I just mean that maybe I’m drunk.

- You’re drunk!

- Ok, I’m drunk.

- Thank you.

- Can I go to bed now?

- No, we are not done yet.

- But mother please…I’ve got a headache.

- That’s what happens when you’re drunk. Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you.

- I don’t!

- Good.

- Fine

- Have you been having sex?

- What?

- Sex, you know, SEX

- No!

- Of course you have, you just don’t want to tell me.

- No, I haven’t! I’m not a slut. I leave that part to you.

- And what is that suppose to mean.

- Grandma has told me what you were like when you were young.

- Really?

- She said she had a hard time stopping you from sleeping with everyone you laid you eyes on.

- (launching at her daughter)Oh, she said that, did she?

- (Jumping aside) Yes she did!

- (boyfriend of mother entering from the living room) Stop arguing you two. You have both gotten too much to drink this evening.

- (Looking suspiciously at her mother) You’re drunk!

- No, I’m not!

- Yes you are! You haven’t been waiting for me, you have been boozing!

- Now you two…

- (running up the stairs) I hate you!

- Hanna!

Dialogue 3

- Grandma?

- Yes dear?

- Are you going to be alright?

- Of course I will dear.

- What will happen to you?

- What do you mean?

- Mamma says you are going to die.

- Does she?

- Yes.

- Hum…Maybe I will.

- What does that mean?

- That means that I will fall asleep forever, dreaming nice dreams.

- Really?

- Yes, really.

- Will you snore when you’re dead?

- (A short laughter) Maybe.

- What will you be dreaming?

- All kinds of nice things.

- Like ponies?

- Yes, like ponies.

- And elephants and dragons and tigers?

- Yes, things like that.

- Can I talk to you?

- No, you can’t talk to someone who is sleeping.

- Why not?

- (A light sigh) Well, you can’t.

- Why not?

- Because I can’t talk when I’m asleep.

- But I will still get my birthday present?

- (A short laughter) Of course you will.

- I love you grandma.

- I love you to dear.

E-assignment 1

Mirrors and reflections

Some stones are better left unturned. They should never have caught her. Then they wouldn't have been forced to face the facts, to see who she really was. Question by question had been asked as to help her memory, but to remember was a process of both fear and amusement and something she preferred to keep to herself.

She had felt their frustration, breathed their hunger for information and licked up the bitter sweat taste of their defeat. Not a second of weakness, not a tear or a slip of tongue had she given them and the blood of her veins pounded with triumph. She was invincible.

Standing in the round shaped room of her memory she gazed at the mirrors moving all around her. Every now and then she could apprehend a flickering light emerging from some of them, tempting her to take a closer look at her reflection. But she never did since years of experience had taught her not to give in to its invitation. Every time she had tried to, it had always ended up in agony and, as years had gone by, she had learned to accept the fact that searching for a deeper understanding of your life was just a time wasting task. She gladly left that to those stupid enough to focus on their inner development rather then their immediate desire. To listen to her feelings was no longer an issue. She could live out of other things that gave her greater satisfaction, building her existence on her cravings. And she loved it.

The first person she had ever killed was a girl. Insisting that some good country air would improve her grades, the whole family had moved to a farm to live their life closer to nature. She did not protest. After all, there had been too many questions about her high strong behaviour at her last school, to many people looking sideways at her, whispering. They all considered her nuts, she already knew that, after she had set fire to her mathematic book in class. But why should she care. None of them were the least like her. She was special.

The girl's name had been Maria. She had considered it strange that someone so mean could have gotten hold of a holy name. But on the other hand you could argue that her parents probably hadn't known what their new born was to become. After all Maria had been very manipulative, right from the beginning. For some reason, Maria had always won their battles, always finding a way to twist things. At first she had coped with it the way you cope with a disturbing sister trying to break into your room, but Maria had never stopped. Somewhere down the line Maria had pressed a button and unleashed the power of action.

She had brought her to an abandoned barn down the road. It had smelled strongly of dung as she had dragged her lifeless body over the dirty floor. It had been a hard task deciding where to put the body. In the end she just dumped it in the middle of the room and left.

An uneasy disturbance, some flickering of the light and the memory faded and with that the excitement she had felt by the remembrance. There was something wet against her skin, like she was lying in a pool of water. The damp seemed to get in everywhere and she shivered trying to regain her warmth. There was a voice, a warm touch on her shoulder.

She had never realised that she had fell into lethargy. Opening her eyes slowly she gazed at the nurse. Light brown hair accompanied by dark blue eyes and a firm body under a white coat. The nurse smiled at her as she lent over her to adjust her pillows so that she could sit up. Crawling up, her gaze fell on her reflection in the mirror at the opposite wall. Maria starred back at her from within the glass just as she always did. She wasn’t dead. She never was. Always there…

Screaming out in horror she frenetically tried to erase the image of the staring Maria from her retina. There were hands all around her, calming hands that soon turned into aggressive claws trying to hold her down. She screamed again trying to escape the chaos that her cracking mind was creating. Trembling at the dark abyss of insanity she reached back from the darkness for a glimpse of some sense. But it was too late. She sank helplessly into the damp beneath her. And the world was dark once more.